Hers for the Holidays (11 page)

“And one with needles at that,” he said with a grin, earning himself a playful punch to the middle.

They both began to pull out a few of her family’s decorations—not the ones for festival use—and before long, the tree looked magnificent, lighting the room with twinkling lights all reflecting off of many ornaments she remembered from when she was a girl. Ely had built a beautiful fire in the fireplace, and everything was just perfect.

And not.

Lydia felt her throat constrict, and didn’t realize her hand had tightened considerably on Ely’s as they admired their work.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said, feeling like an idiot and swiping at her eyes. “My mom would have loved this. She loved Christmas, and decorating the tree. Many of these ornaments were her favorites.”

“Then that makes it even more special,” Ely said, slipping his arm around her and bringing her in close.

That didn’t help, and Lydia was helpless to stop the rush of emotions that surged to the surface.

“I should have been here more. I wasted so many years. I should have been home for Christmas,” she said, tears coming whether she wanted them to or not. She buried her face in Ely’s shoulder, and let them, and he simply held her while she did.

When she calmed down a little, they stayed that way, and she sighed against Ely.

“I’m such a mess,” she mumbled against his sweater.

“You’re allowed,” he said, and didn’t try to fix things or tell her what the answers were.

He was just there.

“What would your mom say to you now, if she was listening in?” he asked.

Lydia thought about it. “She’d say don’t cry over spilled milk, and that carrying around regrets doesn’t help anyone,” Lydia answered honestly. Her mother had told her that more than once over the years. “She’d probably also say why are you crying and being all morose when you have that hot hunk of a man in your living room and a can of whipped cream in the refrigerator?”

Ely pulled back and gave her a look that made her laugh.

“Well, okay, maybe not the whipped cream part. That was mine,” Lydia said, feeling lighter again.

“Your mother sounds like she had her priorities straight,” Ely said, and nuzzled into her neck, making her sadness burn off in a whole new wave of sensation.

“I’ve done a lot of things, but none of them by the light of a freshly decorated Christmas tree before,” she whispered provocatively in his ear.

“I’ll get the whipped cream,” Ely said without preamble and was gone so fast he left her laughing again.

Closing the curtains and stripping down to her undies, Lydia had a sudden burst of inspiration and dug quickly through one of the festival boxes, retrieving a fur-lined Santa hat and strap-on white beard that she’d remembered seeing there. She put them on and then launched herself onto the couch, affecting a sexy pose just as Ely turned the corner into the room.

“So what do you want for Christmas?” she said in a low, Santa-like voice.

He made a full stop, his face crumpling into more laughter as he stripped down and joined her. Lydia knew it was a long time since she had laughed as hard as she did as she tried to kiss him through the faux beard. Finally, it was removed and Lydia was glad as Ely took full possession of her mouth with no obstacles between them.

Their underwear went the way of the beard and their other clothing as Ely made his way down her body, her giggles dissolving to sighs. As he grabbed the can of whipped cream, he sent her a hot look and a wicked smile.

“The hat can stay on,” was all he said before his mouth and his hands made her lose her mind, and Lydia was happy to let him.

11

E
LY
THOUGHT
HE
might be hearing jingle bells, but then realized it was his phone ringing. Somewhere.

Lifting carefully up from the sofa where Lydia was curled up sound asleep, he looked at the clock and saw it was a little past ten. Throwing a few more pieces of wood on the fire, he stoked it to keep the room warm. The oil company had delivered their fuel, but Ely loved the heat from the fire.

“Yeah?” he said, grabbing the phone from where it had fallen out of his jeans pocket on the floor, not bothering to see who it was.

“Ely,” Jonas said, sounding serious.

“Jon. You’re up late. Everything okay?” he said, stretching. Lydia had exhausted him.

“Just catching up on the day and I figured you’d still be up. I just got a report faxed to me from a buddy at the FBI—I called in a little quid pro quo for the project we’re working on now, and he did some digging—some deep digging, on your guy, Kyle.”

Ely’s tiredness evaporated as he grabbed his clothes and pulled them on.

“Tell me.”

“He’s undercover DEA,” Jonas said gravely. “His real name is Ian Riley. There’s a drug cartel running a daisy-chain of meth labs all over the Midwest, and Clear River has been targeted as one of the locations. What did you land yourself in the middle of, there, Ely?” he said, clearly worried.

Kyle? With the Feds, and a Drug Enforcement Officer at that?

And on Lydia’s ranch? Was this just his cover, or was Lydia in more danger than they had thought? But why?

“I can’t imagine how Lydia or the ranch is caught up in any of that,” Ely said, telling Jonas about what had been going on. “Maybe they suspect Kyle—Ian—and that’s drawing heat in her direction?”

“No, if they did, they’d just kill him.”

Ely’s blood ran cold as he looked back to where Lydia lay sleeping.

“It gets worse.”

Ely’s attention sharpened. How could this get worse?

“They aren’t sure if he’s completely clean anymore. You know how it goes. He hasn’t been reporting back, and they don’t know if he’s still working on the right side.”

Ely closed his eyes, thinking of all the times he had left Lydia alone here on the ranch with Ian.

“I’ll find out.”

“Better if you two just pack up and get back here. Let the Feds work it out.”

Ely shook his head. “She can’t. She’ll lose her inheritance—her mother stipulated she had to stay here for a month.”

“Why?”

Ely pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to break Lydia’s confidence, but he’d already done that to some extent. “Her mom just felt she needed to come home and deal with some things from her past, and Mrs. Hamilton was probably right. But I don’t think she realized there was a drug cartel involved.”

“Damn. Okay, well, lay low, then, until you can leave. Only a few more weeks?”

“Should be able to leave a few days after Christmas, and I know Lydia is eager to get back.”

That reality dug at him a little.

“Okay, good. How about you? You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. There’s a lot going on,” Ely said, filling Jon in about the festival.

“Well, that’s good—that there will be a lot of people around. Just stick close, and I’ll let you know if I hear anything more.”

Ely frowned. “No problem there.”

They hung up, and Ely stood, his entire frame tight, on alert, and he knew exactly what he was going to do. Jonas might not think it was a good idea for him to confront Kyle—or Ian, whoever he was—but Ely was going to find out exactly what was going on. He grabbed his jacket and headed out the back door.

Snow was falling again, and he stepped silently, checking the door of the bunkhouse. It was open. Stepping inside, Ely took in the lodgelike surroundings. Not so much a bunkhouse as a large log cabin. He took a few minutes to search the place, noting the half-gone bottle of Jim Beam and a couple of glasses on the coffee table in front of the television. Not a bad option to keep warm.

Poking around, he found nothing unusual. A stack of papers on the small kitchen table told him Smitty was paying his bills on time. Other than that, he found out what magazines the guys liked reading and what they drank and watched on TV. There was next to nothing about Kyle—Ian, he reminded himself—left around. The guy was careful.

Ely was silent as he made his way to the second floor. Recognizing a flannel shirt that Smitty favored hanging on one of the doorknobs, Ely checked the other rooms until he heard loud snoring. Opening the door carefully, Kyle was stretched out, dead to the world.

Ely approached the bed, shutting off his mind and his senses to everything but the man in front of him. He struck quickly, pinning Kyle down by the throat at the exact same second the man lunged upward. Ely had already retrieved his handgun from under the pillow, and pointed it at him, lifting a finger to his lips.

Kyle nodded slightly, wary and still, pulling back toward the pillow.

Ely moved to the door, shut it and kept the gun on the other man, taking a seat in a chair by the desk.

“So,
Ian,
let’s talk,” Ely said easily. Dangerously.

“I should have known you’d figure it out,” Ian said. “You seem like the type.”

Ely didn’t let him deflect the conversation back in his direction.

“There are some folks back in D.C. who think you might be a little too far in. That the case?”

To his credit, Ely thought the surprise on Ian’s face was real.

“No way. I had to stay low. I think someone’s watching, and they should know I can’t risk reporting in,” he spat, his eyes angry.

“So what is going on, and how is Lydia catching flack on this? Is it because you’re here?”

“I think they want something here. On the property, in one of the buildings, I don’t know. I’ve searched the fields, the barns, and I can’t find anything.”

“That leaves the house. Someone was in there last night. You?”

Ian nodded.

“You find anything?”

“Not a damned thing, but you came back too fast. I didn’t look through it all. Maybe there’s nothing there.”

“I found a vial outside the house the day after the first break-in,” Ely said. “That yours?”

“Crap, I wondered where that was. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I was hauling you around. I was sending it back for evidence. Found a cache of them at an abandoned ranch about five miles down.”

Ely just didn’t know whether he could believe the guy or not. Ian was a trained undercover operative; he was a professional deceiver. But Ely had no choice but to work with him for the moment.
Keep your enemies closer.

“Maybe it’s not related,” Ely said. “Lydia had some trouble back when she was a kid—”

“Yeah, I know. Faye told us about it. Tough break.”

“Could be someone doesn’t want her around. Maybe this has nothing to do with the meth.”

Ian’s expression changed, revealing that he hadn’t even considered that. “I guess it’s possible though it seems unlikely. After all this time?”

“Yeah, I know. But people can hold grudges for a long time.”

Ian nodded. “If you can get her out of the house again, for a longer time, maybe overnight, I can do a proper search and we can know for sure. If there’s nothing in there, then I can’t think of any other reason they’d be sniffing around here.”

Ely agreed. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. We have to go into the city to get some supplies tomorrow. I’ll make arrangements to be gone overnight.”

Ian’s eyes glinted. “Yeah, I figured there was something like that going on. Had my eye on—”

Ely leveled a gaze, cutting him off. “Watch yourself. I still have the gun.”

Ian laughed and put his hands up.

“You may not be able to report back to your people, but I can report to mine—and I’m going to,” Ely warned. “So don’t think you can pull anything, Ian. You aren’t operating solo anymore, and if anything you do so much as harms a hair on her head, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Ely took the clip out of the gun, shoved it in his pocket and shot the empty weapon back at the guy before he could respond and left. Sprinting back to the house, a plan formed to get Lydia away from the ranch for a night. He didn’t like lying to her, but it was probably best if he kept what he knew about “Kyle” to himself until they had a better idea of what was going on. She had enough on her mind, and the less she knew, the safer she would be.

Ely would make sure of that.

* * *

E
LY
DROVE
THE
Subaru into Billings, putting his worries behind him for the time being. Lydia had seemed to tune in to his tension that day as they had worked with other people from town, decorating trees and putting the final touches on the ranch for the festival. He’d been surprised by her perceptiveness, or that he was losing his touch, and letting himself be so easily read.

For now, they were just going to enjoy the chance to get away from the town for a while. He’d talked with Jonas, who wasn’t thrilled, but it had been Ely’s call. He was the one here in the middle of it.

The timing had been perfect. Lydia needed to get supplies for her tattoo booth, and he had been put in charge of running some other errands assigned by Geri. Ely had planned a night away that would be good for both of them, and he was looking forward to having Lydia to himself. The festival was only three days away, and Christmas the next week. Then they would go home, and all of this would be over.

“I should check with the insulation company and make sure they’re still coming out as planned,” he said, making casual conversation.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll want to get back as soon as we can, though. I heard there was more snow coming in.”

“Never-ending supply of the stuff here,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m kind of getting used to it.”

He made his way down through the main drag of the city. Lydia had offered to drive, but he knew she was tired, and she had napped for part of the trip. Good. Because he hoped they would be up late that night. He planned to make the most of every minute they had left.

“So, what first?”

“Let’s find the tattoo shop that Megan mentioned and we can get the supplies, and we’ll go from there,” she directed.

So before long, they were at their first destination. The shop was well lit with true light, Lydia mentioned, so that colors were not distorted; that helped consumers know what the tattoo would really look like when it was done. The walls were covered with designs that people could choose from, and also pictures of people who had gotten their ink in the shop. A second room to the back offered various kinds of tattoo shop necessities, including the ink and supplies that Lydia would need for the festival.

Ely was fascinated to listen in while Lydia conversed with the owner, an older woman named Dot, who had as many tattoos, if not more, than Lydia. A transplant from New York who had followed her husband to Billings for his work, Dot and Lydia seemed to bond immediately. She and Lydia spent a few minutes admiring each other’s art and technique, discussing their shops and so forth. Lydia was in her element, it was easy to see; it was the first time she had relaxed in days, Ely noticed.

“Listen, since this is for a good cause, I’ll give you the twenty percent discount I give to other shop owners,” Dot said at the register. “After all, it is Christmas. And we won’t be here after the New Year, so it will be good for me to clear out some inventory.”

“Thanks,” Lydia said warmly. “But why are you closing down?”

“Frank can’t take the cold and the snow anymore. We’re moving south, and I may just work on a freelance basis. Time to enjoy some of the finer things in life,” Dot said with a smile. “I’ll miss this place, though. And business has really picked up in the last few years. Everyone and their sister wants tattoos now. I did a whole bridal party last week,” she said, laughing.

After they shared a bit more information, the women parted ways and Ely and Lydia headed out. Lydia stopped by the bin of toys by the door.

“Toys for Tots,” Ely said, walking up behind her. “We donate a lot every year from Berringer. It’s always fun doing the toy shopping, since we have no kids in the family right now, though I get the feeling Tessa and Jonas will be changing that. But it’s fun to do the shopping and the donations.”

“You think they will have kids right off? Tessa didn’t mention it, and she’s so busy with her shop,” Lydia said with a frown. Tessa would be a great mom—and Lydia an honorary aunt—but she couldn’t imagine how someone could balance both, and she also couldn’t imagine giving up her life’s work.

“Oh, I imagine they would figure it out,” Ely said easily.

Lydia had never really considered having her own kids; probably because she never really considered being in any long-term relationship other than her few friendships. Being an aunt could be fun, though, if Ely was right about Jonas and Tessa.

Heading out the door, Ely took Lydia’s bag, in spite of her protests that she could carry it on her own, and they walked back toward the car.

“Why don’t we go toy shopping?” Lydia said suddenly, stopping on the sidewalk as “All I Want For Christmas Is You” piped along the streets from some unseen speaker. “We can donate some to the toy drive here, and bring a bunch back to Clear River for the festival, for the kids. I know Faith said the stuff we donated from the house was good, but kids should have new toys,” she said.

Ely was surprised at her suggestion, but he liked it. Turning to face her on the walk, he said as much.

“You were inspired by the toy bin?” he asked.

“I guess. I normally do all of my shopping online and avoid stores at the holidays like the plague. But you’re here because of me, and probably missing that shopping trip with your brothers. And I would like to contribute new toys to the festival.”

“I think that’s a great idea, though you don’t have to worry about me being here. I’m happy to be here,” he assured her. In fact, he couldn’t think of anywhere else he would rather be. The place, and the woman, were growing on him very quickly. A little warning bell went off in his brain, but he ignored it, opening her car door for her.