Hers for the Holidays (9 page)

“Damn,” Ely spat, taking off after the kid, but losing him almost immediately. Roger had the benefit of knowing the town a lot better than he did.

Taking out his cell, he dialed the sheriff, but as it turned out, Granger wasn’t in. He left a message where Granger could find him. Suddenly, his visit to Clear River was getting way more complicated than he ever expected it to be.

* * *

L
YDIA
HEARD
Ely arrive,
his boot step on the porch already familiar, making her smile. Until she saw he wasn’t alone.

Steve Granger was with him.

Ely walked in with the sheriff and Lydia froze, unsure what to say. Had Ely told him what was going on? This was what she had known from the start—Ely cared. He got involved and did the right thing. It was just how he was built.

Steve looked up and saw Lydia.

“Hi, Steve,” she said.

“Good to see you, Lydia.”

She swallowed hard, finding that hard to believe.

“Thanks. You, too.”

“Things been okay out here?” he asked, and she saw something tense in Ely’s features.

Dammit.

She straightened her spine. “Things are fine.”

He grunted in response, looking at Ely, confirming her suspicions.

“Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will, sure.”

She listened as Ely told the sheriff what happened and handed him the gun. Steve’s face grew tight.

“Damn kid. He’s going to get himself or someone else killed. I can’t believe he landed himself in the middle of this mess.”

“He’s trying to help his mother, the only way he thinks he can. But yeah, it’s bad,” Ely said, and Lydia approached, also concerned, especially after what Geri had told her about Faith.

“You don’t have any idea where he was delivering the stuff?”

Ely replied, “No. He didn’t tell me anything that would help, except that it was a large operation. He said they could find him wherever he was, so he couldn’t talk to the cops.”

Steve let out a breath. “He’s probably right. I’ll have to look for him quietly. If they know we know, they’ll get rid of him sooner than later.”

Lydia was horrified. “Poor Faith. Does she know?”

Steve looked at her in surprise. “You know Faith?”

His eyes turned a little bleak at the mention of the name. He clearly still had feelings for Faith.

“Only just met her. They’re having the festival here,” Lydia explained.

“Oh, that’s right. Well, she can’t seem to understand I’m trying to help the kid, and brushing it under the carpet won’t do that. Although, I’m not sure what I can do for him now, except try to keep him alive,” Steve said. “I should go. I appreciate your help, Ely.”

Ely showed him to the door. Steve turned back to Lydia.

“Ginny told me she saw you at the store.”

Lydia froze, aware of Ely’s close attention.

“Yes.”

“She said it didn’t go well, and she was feeling terrible about it.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Lydia said, waiting for more harsh words of recrimination.

“Charlie can be protective,” he said. “But he’s a good guy. And she’s doing well. Maybe you two should try to talk again.”

Lydia tried to smile. “I don’t think so. I have a lot going on here, and I’ll be leaving soon.”

Steve watched her closely for a few minutes, and then nodded. “All right, you know best, I imagine.”

When he was gone, Lydia turned her back to the door and closed her eyes.

“You okay?” Ely asked.

“Yeah.”

“The other day—at the store—when you were so upset. Is that what he was talking about?” he asked, putting two and two together.

“I don’t really want to get into it.”

“Okay,” he said, but she could see in his face that it wasn’t okay.

“What else did you talk with Granger about?”

Ely’s mouth flattened. “I mentioned to him that you had a few problems around the place, and that I wasn’t sure it was coincidence. He said he’d keep an eye on things, and that was it. Unless you wanted to do more, that’s all he can do.”

Lydia’s anger was harsh and immediate.

“You had no right. I told you I didn’t want him involved.”

“Why is that, Lydia? Because he’s your friend’s brother, and you two had some kind of fight? He seems like a good enough guy, a decent cop—why not let him know you’re having some trouble?”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” she said, heading for the kitchen. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ely followed, as she knew he would, coming up behind her and making her turn to face him.

“He said he was the brother of your best friend, and that things had ended badly. He wouldn’t say more, but is that what you’re hiding, Lydia? Why you took off? Why someone might be harassing you now?”

Feeling cornered, she shouted, “You need to just mind your own business.” Desperate to escape she quickly grabbed her jacket and rushed to the door.

She was out to her car before he could catch her, heading down the driveway. She just needed to get away for a while. Away from Ely’s questions and concern, and everything he made her feel.

Out on the road, she switched on some music, and just drove. The roads were more or less dry, and the night was clear. Her heart stopped pounding and her mind settled.

Finally, at the edge of town where all she could see was the endless expanse of snowy fields and starry skies, she stopped and looked out over the emptiness.

What was she doing?

She would have to go back home and face Ely sometime, and that seemed to be the case with everything in her life. There was no more avoiding it. Steve had been fine, and there was no reason to fly off at Ely and run.

Except that there was. She could deal with the way her old friends or people in the town felt about her and what she’d done—she deserved what they thought of her.

But she wasn’t sure she could deal with losing Tessa, Ely and the life she’d built for herself now because of it. What would they think if they knew what she had done?

Her cell phone rang and she looked down to see Ely’s name glowing in the bright blue screen.

She had to go back. Turning the car around on the isolated road, she drove in the direction of the ranch, and as she got closer, noticed someone had pulled off of a side road behind her. The pickup came up behind her fast, its bright headlights nearly blinding her. She hit the gas, trying to get some distance, but it stayed with her.

Nervous, she looked down again as her phone brightened, Ely calling again. She reached for the phone just as the guy swerved around her, roaring up on her side.

Lydia yelped as the truck pulled closer, crowding her. She held the wheel tight and tried to speed up, but he kept up with her. Then the truck did exactly as she feared, side-swiping her and sending her little Subaru pitching off the road.

She slid into a snowy field, hitting the breaks just as she plowed the front of the car into a massive snowbank, burying the car up to the windshield. Recovering from the impact, which fortunately wasn’t hard enough to set off the airbags or hurt her, she looked behind, fearing the person in the truck had stopped and was coming back for her.

No one. Silence and snow was all that surrounded her. The phone’s final ring cut through her panicked haze, and she searched for it, locating it under the passenger’s seat. She picked it up, trying to control her breathing.

“Lydia, what’s going on? Where are you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Ely asked, sounding at the edge of reason.

“I’m okay, but I’m off the road, and I need help,” she said, feeling extraordinarily calm—too calm—until she noted that she couldn’t open the doors—snow held them shut.

“What happened? Where are you?”

“About two miles west of the ranch on the main route. Someone ran me off the road, and I can’t get the doors open. I’m trapped,” she said, panic setting in again.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Just breathe, and sit still. Shut the car off, in case your exhaust is plugged. I’ll be right there, with help,” Ely said.

“Okay.”

Lydia stayed on the line with Ely the whole time he was on his way to her, and he arrived just seconds before Granger did, his lights flashing. Another vehicle came lumbering up from behind, Smitty in the tractor.

That helped enormously as Smitty dug a path to the car, which she could see now was at least twenty feet from the edge of the road, and the guys took shovels to dig around her door, getting her out quickly.

Lydia launched herself into Ely’s arms, and stayed close as Steve investigated the scene.

“Can you remember anything about the truck?” the sheriff asked.

“It was big, a double-duty, and black or dark blue maybe,” she said. “I never had an angle that I could see the driver or the plate.”

Granger frowned. “Trucks like that are probably a dime a dozen out here. I’ll check it out, and there is some paint on your car, so we can look for damage on the passenger side of local trucks, but it’s a long shot.”

Lydia nodded and thanked him as the men attached a chain to her car, and Ely turned it on so that they could back it out of the field. It would be brought back to the police impound, just for a night or two, Granger told her. They’d take pictures of the damage, and see if they could find anything that would lead them to the truck she tangled with.

Getting in the truck with Ely, Lydia was still shivering even though she was warm. They didn’t say anything as they returned to the house, but paused in the truck before he shut it off, looking at her with an expression she hadn’t seen before and couldn’t quite make out.

“You scared the life out of me, Lydia.”

“I know. I was scared, too.”

“Can you tell me what this is all about?”

“C’mon, let’s get inside.”

She let him lead her back into the house, but as she walked up the porch and opened the door, they both froze as they realized the door was already open, left ajar by just the smallest sliver.

Someone was in the house.

9

E
LY
MADE
L
YDIA
stay by the door as he checked the house to make sure the intruder was gone.

“It’s clear,” he said to Lydia, noting that the new lock he’d installed had been broken by the forced entry.

Walking out to the lot, he only then noted the larger tire tracks in the snow—two sets, coming and going—so whoever had been here was long gone.

“Can you check around to see if anything is missing? Maybe we can get some clue as to what they’re looking for.”

“It doesn’t look like anything was taken, but then again, the place is kind of a wreck at the moment. It might be hard to tell.”

She was right. With her clearing out the house, and the festival preparations going on, there were boxes and piles of decorations and other things just about everywhere.

“The door looks kicked in, so we probably won’t find a fingerprint,” he said, closing it all the way and blocking it with a heavy cast-iron umbrella stand.

“I just can’t figure out what anyone would want. Why they’d do this,” she said, and he noticed her hand shook as she pushed it through her hair.

“Hey, come here,” he said, pulling her in close. “We’ll figure this out.”

He took her coat and hung it, then led her to sit on the sofa.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and went to pour them both a large glass of wine.

When he came back, she looked better, some color returning, and he handed her the wine.

“There’s more where this came from,” he said, hoping for a smile, and getting a shadow of one as he sat down across from her.

“It seems like you might have some idea of what’s going on.”

Lydia appeared to consider what he was saying and finally, after drinking some of her wine, she started talking.

“Steve’s youngest sister, Ginny, was my best friend, but more like my sister. We’d been friends since pre-school.”

“The girl in the picture?”

“Yeah. We were...inseparable.”

“So what happened?”

“There was a boy I liked. I wanted him to ask me out. There was a spring homecoming dance coming up and all I did was think about him taking me. Ginny knew I was crazy about him, and she promised to see if he liked me, too, in that stupid way we do in high school,” she said, with sarcasm in her voice.

“And? Did he?”

“No, she said he said he wanted to ask someone else. I was crushed. So, one afternoon, I had to stay late to take a test I’d missed and when I was leaving, I saw Ginny—and this guy—kissing by the bus stop. I was so hurt. Even more crushed that she would do that, even more so than him not asking me out. My ego took a hard hit.”

“Those are rough years. Something like that, a betrayal, is pretty strong stuff.”

“Yeah, well, she tried to tell me that she hadn’t done anything. She said he kissed her, not the other way around, but that she liked him, and wanted to go out with him. I was pissed, and should have said fine, but I told her no, if she did that, we weren’t friends anymore. After a few weeks of not speaking to her, she begged me to tell her what she could do for us to be friends again,” Lydia said, shaking her head in regret, looking down at her tightly clasped fingers.

“Ginny was softer than me, easier-going, tender-hearted. I know now—and I knew then—that I was punishing her for the fact that he didn’t want me, but I couldn’t seem to control it.”

“You were a teenage girl. I don’t know firsthand, but I hear they aren’t great with self-control,” he said with a smile, pushing some hair back from her face.

She didn’t look at him, and just shook her head.

“I know it seems silly, but it got worse. I told her that the only way I could forgive her was if she rode her father’s prize Thoroughbred. No one was allowed to ride him except for Mr. Granger. The horse was big and high strung. Unpredictable. Very valuable. I had a grand plan.”

“You wanted to get her in trouble.”

Lydia nodded. “I figured if Ginny was caught even trying to ride that horse, she would be grounded from the dance, and probably for the entire summer. Ginny was always such a good girl, did everything she was told, that I never expected her to agree, really. But she did.”

“What happened?”

Lydia swallowed hard. “I should have told her that it was enough that she was willing. I should have stopped her then.”

Ely pulled in closer. He had a sick feeling he knew how this story ended, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“What happened, Lydia?”

“She was afraid. We were there with a few of our friends, and we egged her on. Mostly me.” Lydia swallowed, her throat tight. “She managed to saddle the horse and get him out to the field, and she was actually doing okay with him. In fact, we were all really impressed. I was...proud of her, and I wasn’t even angry anymore. So we clapped, applauding her, and the horse reared. Threw her hard. It just...lost it. The horse was so frantic, she was trampled underneath. I thought she was dead. She was just laying there.”

“Oh, babe, come here,” he said, trying to provide some comfort, but Lydia was too caught up in the past, and pushed him away. She closed in on herself as if she didn’t deserve his comfort. Ely gave her the space, and listened.

“She wasn’t dead, but she was paralyzed from the waist down. Permanently. I snuck in to see her at the hospital, to try to tell her how sorry I was, and her father was there. He let me have a good look at what I’d done. He had the horse put down, as well, and he told me his wife was on sedatives. She’d come running to the field when it happened, and saw Ginny after she fell. She had a nervous breakdown. All of it, because of me being stupid and selfish. He told me to go and to never come back.”

“Lydia, you can’t—”

She held her hand up. “No. There is no forgiveness for some things in life. He was right. I tried to live with it, to make amends, but there was no way to do that. No one at school would talk to me, and while my parents were great, I could see that they were hurt by what I had done, as well. So, I left. I did what Mr. Granger told me to do. I took off, and I never came back.”

“Until now.”

She nodded. “I did come back to see Mom before she passed on, and she tried to get me to face up to things. Said the hurt passed with time, but she was wrong. It doesn’t. I saw Ginny in the store the other day, and it was...bad.”

“So that’s what had you so upset.”

“It’s what I deserve. Some things can’t be fixed.”

Ely frowned at the finality in her voice. Whatever the other woman and her family had suffered, he had a feeling Lydia had suffered just as much, punishing herself over the years just as harshly. She felt she had taken her friend’s life—perhaps not literally, but in other ways—away. So she was denying herself any happiness, as well? Was that why she formed so few real relationships? Because she might be happy if she did?

But clearly that had gone on too long.

“I’m so sorry, Lydia, for all of you. But you were a kid, too. You did something foolish, but of course you never meant for that terrible thing to happen. You can’t still blame yourself for it. Very likely no one else does, either.”

“Oh, they do. Believe me. You should have seen her face, and her husband’s face.”

“Her husband? So she married?”

Lydia nodded. “I was surprised, too, but Mom said she was doing okay.”

“Then why beat yourself up so much?”

“Maybe she made the best of it. Maybe she’s even happy now, but that doesn’t change what I did.”

“Seems to me that you’re taking an awful lot on yourself. You made some bad decisions, but we all make mistakes. I saw some terrible things over in Afghanistan, and did some things I may question until the end of my days. I can’t tell you about it, but it eats at me if I let it. I try not to let it. It’s over now.”

“That’s hardly the same. You were defending your country, doing your duty. I was just a horrible person. You know the real crappy thing is that I haven’t changed much. I took off without a word to Tessa, thinking only of my own feelings. Ginny told me the thing I’m best at is taking care of myself, and she’s right.”

“You’d just lost your mother. I think Tessa would understand, and Ginny was out of line, the way I see it. She had a bad break, but she also chose to get up on that horse. And that’s just how it is.”

“I was awful to you, as well,” she said. “I’m a disaster as a friend, Ely. People get close to me, and I hurt them even when I don’t mean to. If you want to go, I understand,” she said.

He shook his head, leaned in, kissing her hair. “I’m not going anywhere. But why would anyone be trying to hurt you now for something that happened over a decade ago? It seems out of proportion, to be reacting this way. Some resentment or angry words, maybe, but not what’s been happening.”

“I don’t know. I can’t think of any other reason anyone would want to hurt me,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“C’mon. Enough for tonight. I’m going to get some stuff I left in the truck and take a shower. You should join me.”

He went outside, and did a little scouting around, just to make sure, before he went back in. Sliding the heavy umbrella stand in front of the door again, he figured it might not keep it shut if someone tried to get inside, but it would make a good crash if someone tried to get in.

Taking her hand and going upstairs, Ely was intent on getting to the bottom of what was happening with Lydia. She’d made a horrible mistake as a teenager, and she had punished herself for it for years—and if someone was trying to drive that lesson home now, he was going to find out who it was, and set the record straight.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
,
Ely started the day by getting to the home supply warehouse early and replacing not only the lock, but the door, on Lydia’s home. Now it featured a solid fiberglass door with a top-notch dead bolt. There wasn’t much he could do otherwise, and this made him feel like he was doing something to keep her safe.

He hated feeling helpless, he thought as he put both hands around the thick, wood support he had built into the basement underneath the kitchen floor, replacing the beam it joined above, as well. Satisfied with his progress in the last few days, he removed one of the temporary metal supports that he had in place while he worked. All of the rotted supports were switched out now, and replaced with new. It was a relatively easy, inexpensive fix that would make a lot of difference to new buyers.

Lydia had agreed that something had to be done with the windows; replacement wasn’t possible at this point in the season, but he planned to caulk, and he was shocked to find that some of the walls were not insulated. That was a much less expensive fix than new windows, and if she put up insulating curtains, that would help make the place a lot warmer.

He felt good about contributing, and he’d enjoyed the things he’d had to do. In contrast to his bodyguard work, here he got to work with his hands more. When he’d come home from his tour of duty, he picked up with his brothers because it had seemed like the thing to do. They needed him, and he had the skills to do the job they were asking him to do. And he got to be with family. Slam dunk.

But he wondered now, what would he have done if Berringer Bodyguards hadn’t been there? What if he had had to come home and figure out what he wanted to do, instead of sliding into a comfortable slot with his brothers?

Maybe carpentry or construction. Or maybe he would have gone back to college for an architecture degree. He’d thought about that once before joining the Marines, but his call to duty had been too strong back then to follow his own personal desires.

Pondering that, he put his tools away and walked upstairs to the kitchen, hearing a soft curse come from the front room. Heading that way, he found her sitting on the floor, buried, almost literally, in Christmas decorations. She didn’t look happy about it, either.

The organizing for the Winter Festival that would be held in less than a week had begun in earnest. Hammering echoed from the outdoors where a few guys had shown up to start hanging lights around the barns. Lydia looked at the window and muttered something about the noise.

“They’re making such a racket I can’t think,” she said.

“Look at all this stuff. It looks like you just stole Christmas from Whoville,” he said, hoping to make her smile.

No luck. She’d been stressed out to her limit, trying to sort out the house, clearing away the family memories, but also meeting with Faith and Geri about the festival on top of being harassed.

Ely sympathized. If she was feeling grinchy, he couldn’t blame her. The holidays were often harder for people who had just suffered a loss, and Lydia was having to literally throw herself into it, when he knew she would rather avoid it altogether.

He made his way through mountains of garland and other decorations, squatting down close to her, and tipping her face up for a kiss. She returned it half-heartedly.

“You know what you need?”

“What’s that?”

“To blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. They’d blown off a fair bit of steam in the shower the night before, but he never seemed to get tired of being with her.

Though that brought a small smile to her eyes, she said, “I can’t. And I’m not really in the mood. I need to get through all of this before Geri and Faith come over to take inventory on what new things they need to buy, and what was left over from last year.”

“C’mon,” he cajoled, pulling her to her feet and in for a longer kiss. “It won’t take long, but it will be fun. You’ll feel better after.”

She laughed, which he considered an even bigger victory than a smile, and pulled back to look at him. “Way to sell it, big guy. But what the heck. I could use a little warm-up,” she said, desire flickering in her eyes.

She hadn’t mentioned their discussion the night before at all. It was as if she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, didn’t exist. He went along with that, for now. Though, how to convince her that she shouldn’t be punishing herself for what happened so long ago remained a mystery to him.