All I Want for Christmas: A Kinnison Legacy Holiday novella Page 7

  “Did the Sunday dinner thing go okay?” Ellie asked.

  “It did… mostly. It was a relatively pleasant day. Cody picked at his food, stayed pretty quiet.”

  “Until?” Ellie prodded. “I can hear in your voice that something happened.”

  “You know Emilee Kinnison, my niece? Dalton’s oldest.”

  “Yes, I’ve been around her many times since moving here. Very mature for her age. A gifted child.”

  “That is true. And it seems her Grandma Rebecca feels that she may have the ability to ‘see’ things—visions, if you will. But they seem random at best. And it’s unclear if they’re past, present, or future.”

  “She did nail Sawyer’s gender, even before Angelique knew.”

  “True, and I’ve seen it occur a couple of other times, but nothing of this magnitude. This was very different.”

  “How so?” Ellie prodded.

  “Emilee was terrified and frankly, if I’d seen what she told her grandmother she saw, I’d be terrified, too.”

  “At the very least, concerned, I’d think.”

  “Exactly, and that’s why I called. To find out if Cody has a father in his life somewhere. Maybe a boyfriend of Rowena’s that he called ‘daddy’?”

  “No, not that I’m aware of. It was just the two of them when they came to us. She said they’d been traveling north from New Orleans, living pretty much from place-to-place, making their way to relatives in Canada. She had Cody’s birth records with her and it didn’t indicate a father. But as you know, many women who come through our doors are seeking safety from an abusive relationship. Has Cody been asking to see his dad?” Ellie asked.

  “No,” Liberty replied.

  “What did Emilee say that she saw?”

  “What she described sounded like a horrible accident, perhaps…there was a lot of blood.” She paused to take a breath and glanced at Cody, seemingly unscathed by the incident and content as could be, enraptured by the video. “I’m not sure I understand this notion of seeing visions.”

  “Why don’t you tell me the rest. What makes you ask about his father?”

  “Angelique said that Emilee saw Cody standing over these bodies. He was covered in blood and he was screaming out for his daddy,” she finished, resting her palm to her forehead. “I don’t know what to think.”

  There was a long pause. “Well, to my knowledge, Rowena has never been involved in anything even close to that type of incident. And I would hazard a guess that if she had been, Cody’s behavior would be showing obvious signs of seeing something that traumatic.”

  Reason. “You’re right, that makes sense.”

  Ellie cleared her throat. “Though that isn’t going to make what I have to tell you any easier. In fact, I was just picking up the phone to call you when you rang through.”

  Liberty stilled. “What is it?”

  “Rowena agreed to the deal. She gave them some names. The judge instructed her to do three hundred hours of community service and she received a one-year probation, as it was her first offense. She gets released later today.”

  “And Cody?” She could barely get out the question, knowing already the answer was one she’d effectively been sweeping under the rug for days now.

  “He awarded Cody back to his mom.”

  Her brain went on shut down. How was this possible? Couldn’t the judge see how unwise it was to send this little boy back into such uncertainty?

  “Liberty?”

  “Isn’t there anything you can do?” Liberty asked, trying to keep her emotions on an even keel. “Do you feel this is the right thing—the best for Cody?”

  “Listen, I know how hard this is. You and Rein are good people. But the fact is that our system is designed to keep mothers and children together if at all possible.”

  Liberty felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest.

  “She agreed to the terms I set. At least they’ll be living here--that’s some comfort, I hope.”

  “So, the probation means she cannot move out of state, correct?” Liberty asked.

  “That’s true. However, she can still decide who Cody has contact with. Right now, that’s a short list which includes me, the social worker, and one other staff member.” Ellie released a sigh. “It’s not ideal. Admittedly, I share your concern. But we’ve got to give her a chance to make things right by her son. And hopefully, she may agree to allow you some visitation.”

  “But his Christmas presents—Rein built him a little barn to go with his farm set.” Liberty searched her mind, trying to remember where she’d hidden all the little gifts for him.

  “You can wrap them and give them to me if you like. I’ll see that he gets them.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip and breathed in deeply to keep from falling apart.

  “I know what you’re feeling, Liberty. I do. I’ve wanted to hang on to so many of the kids whom I’ve seen over the years. That’s part of what we do, show love and family to kids who really need it. Sometimes, those kids are lucky enough to stay in those good homes, and other times their visits are short.”

  Tears began to roll down Liberty’s cheeks.

  “The system honestly needs more good, caring people like you and Rein, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for that. Because of you, Cody was able to experience unconditional love and acceptance. Something I doubt he’s had much of before now. But because I have seen people turn their lives around, I hope that his mom will be able to show her son that same kind of love. He won’t forget you or the kindness you’ve shown him--of that, I’m certain.”

  “When will he need to be ready?”

  “This afternoon,” Ellie stated softly. “We can meet at the diner if you like, or I can come to your place. We can tell him together—with you and Rein, or we can treat it as though he’s going on a visit to see his mom. Maybe it’s best if I explain everything to him once we get back to Billings. It might be less painful for everyone. I’ll come back up in a couple of days to check on you and get his presents.”

  Liberty’s heart was about to break. “I’ll pack his favorite toys and his clothes in his backpack.”

  “That would be very kind, thank you. Shortly after lunch, then?”

  Liberty swallowed sorrow the size of a basketball down her throat. “Sure, that will give us some time this morning together.”

  “It’s going to be okay, Liberty.” Ellie said. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

  Liberty wiped her nose and brushed her tears away as she noticed Cody getting up from the couch. “That’s what Rein said.”

  Cody padded into the kitchen and looked at her. “Are you okay?” He hadn’t often called her mom, but she’d felt the trust between them and had told him daily how much they loved having him in their lives.

  “I’m okay, baby. Is your video done?” She took his hand and walked to the family room. “I feel like watching some more of these, how about you?”

  He nodded with a big smile, climbed up onto the couch, and grabbed his blanket as he burrowed into a nest of throw pillows.

  Liberty tucked herself in close and draped her arm over the back of the couch. Instinctively, he scooted close, snuggling beneath her arm.

  “Is that girl, Emilee, going to be okay?” he asked quietly as the video began.

  “That’s very nice of you to ask, Cody. Yes, I think she’s okay now.” She brushed a wisp of his hair from his forehead. It’s going to be okay. Maybe if she said it enough times, her heart would start to believe it.

  ***

  “How in God’s name is this okay?” Rein paced the room, shaking his head at the sheer audacity of it all. He’d come home to find Liberty seated on Cody’s bedroom floor, her eyes rimmed red from crying.

  She rubbed the heel of her palm over her eyes. “We both knew this was going to happen. That’s the way the system works.”

  “Yeah, well, the system” --he crooked his fingers into air quotes--“is fucked up. Isn’t there
anything Ellie could do?”

  “She said that whenever possible, it’s best to keep the mother and child together.”

  He stopped, his frustration beginning to wane in light of how his wife had suffered this afternoon. “You should have called me. Clay and I were just talking to Tyler after Wyatt left, and then Betty asked us to take a look at something she’d like to include in the kitchen.” He looked down at where she sat by Cody’s bed. “I’d have been here in a heartbeat, sweetheart, you know that.”

  “I know, and Ellie offered a number of ways to handle it. None of them sounded right, or easy. I was being totally selfish,” Liberty said as she stood and realized how late it had gotten.

  Rein followed her into their bedroom.

  She placed her hand on the top of her head as though trying to control her thoughts. “I just sat with him… all morning, watching those silly videos he loves.” Her voice sounded wounded—detached.

  “I told Ellie we had his presents. She said she’d come up in a day or two and get them if we wanted. She’d make sure he got them.”

  “Did Cody understand he wouldn’t be coming back?” Rein asked.

  Liberty sat on the edge of the bed. “I packed his backpack with his favorite toys. I kissed him goodbye like I always do when he’s going to see his mom. Which is technically true.” She looked up, her tear-stained face stricken with concern. “I couldn’t do it, Rein. I didn’t know how to explain. Ellie said it was easier if she explained it to him once they got back to Billings.”

  He knelt in front of her. “It’s okay, baby.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. One of the reasons Wyatt had called the breakfast meeting was to ask him to play the role of Santa at the ranch holiday gathering. He’d been hesitant at first, feeling it should be Wyatt’s duty as head of the Kinnison ranch. But it hadn’t taken much to convince him to take on the job when he mentioned how Cody’s face lit up the night of the parade.

  “We should go ahead and give her the presents, don’t you agree?” Liberty asked.

  Her question jostled him from the memory of that night and the image of Liberty holding Cody, his tiny, red mittens waving wildly at Santa as he drove the sleigh--equipped with its summer wheels—down the street. He stood with a sigh and unsnapped his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders. It was probably better that he hadn’t been around when Ellie came. He might have said things Cody shouldn’t hear--and Ellie didn’t deserve to hear. She was simply following protocol. Deep down, he knew it.

  “I’m going to go to bed, I’m exhausted. We can deal with Cody’s room tomorrow.” Liberty came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against his back. “You okay?”

  He turned and pulled her into his arms. Holding her stabilized his emotions. “I will be.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Wyatt asked me to play Santa at the holiday gathering.”

  She looked up, holding his gaze. “Sweetheart, you are one of the best Santa’s I’ve ever seen, but Wyatt, of all people, would understand completely if you passed the baton to him or Dalton this year.”

  He breathed in deeply, then shook his head. “It’ll take me a couple of days, but I’ll do it. Em, Gracie, Julie’s boys—they all deserve a happy Christmas, too.” He managed a half-grin. “I guess we could all use a little magic in our lives right now.”

  She hugged him. “We’ll get through this, right?”

  He squeezed her tight. “We will. I love you, darlin’. I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’m going down and checking the house.”

  “Don’t be long,” she called as he started down the steps.

  Rein wandered through the house, checking doors, shutting off lights. He walked into the family room just off the kitchen and saw the dozens of video cases and DVDs strewn across the coffee table. At one end of the couch, the pillows had been piled together. The blue afghan that Cody dearly loved was tossed across them.

  Weariness overcame him and he slumped down on the couch, staring before him at the array of music videos. He smiled as he remembered Saturday mornings when Cody begged for Rein to put one in—it didn’t ever seem to matter which; any of them would do.

  They’d been a recommendation from Sally, who said that her younger students loved them and even some of her older students would borrow them from time-to-time. Liberty had bought one online and Cody had loved it so much that she wound up buying the whole set.

  He should put them away, tidy up things a bit, but the truth was he wanted to hang onto the chaos—it reminded him of Cody. Rein leaned back and reached for the blanket. He wadded it in his hands and held it close to his chest. A heavy loss, so much like when they’d lost their son last spring, washed over him. He pressed the blanket to his face and breathed in the little boy’s scent that lingered in the soft fabric. Tears stung at the back of his eyes. How much more could he take? He fought the sob that finally broke free, tearing from his throat in a low anguish. He tossed the blanket aside and leaned forward, fighting the pain. He tried to put it in perspective, tried to remind himself that he’d known going into this that it was a temporary situation. He shook his head, the sorrow rising through him finally surfacing. He covered his face and let the tears come. And then, determined to be strong—for Liberty, for them both--he pulled in a deep breath and swiped his hands over his face. He sniffed, telling himself that things would be all right. And while he drank only on special occasions--and then only beer--he decided that tonight Jamison might be in order to help him sleep.

  He found a glass and rummaged through the cabinet until he found the open bottle that had been there since they’d christened the house. He poured it half full, judging from what he could tell in the dark kitchen, and sat down at the kitchen island to leisurely sip the potent whiskey.

  “Do you remember what I used to tell you boys when something went wrong at school?”

  The voice in his head—most likely influenced by the generous gulp of Jamison he’d just swallowed—sounded so very much like his Uncle Jed. Rein shook his head. Damn, that sounded as though he was standing right here. He eyed the glass, thinking the Irish whiskey packed more of a punch than he remembered. “You mean,” he said aloud, “like the time I got beaten to a pulp because Dalton mouthed off to the wrong kid and his brother took it out on me? Yeah, I remember.”

  “You aren’t strong, son, just because you’ve been through some hard times.”

  “That, according to Dalton, is true.” He lifted his glass to his solitude. “To his way of thinking I’ve not yet hit my stride of hard times.” He tipped his head at the sudden thought. “Though it does beg the question, if I’m talking to myself and imagining you in my head, then I may have hit the payload of hard times at this exact moment.”

  “You’re strong because of how you reacted to and overcame those difficult situations. Oh, hell, I’m preaching to the choir here.”

  Rein stared at the glass, remembering when the three of them had toasted Jed’s memory after the funeral. Standing at his old desk, they’d polished off the remains of the Jamison they’d found in his uncle’s liquor cabinet. Even then, Rein could still smell the scent of his uncle’s Old Spice aftershave lingering in the library.

  Kind of like now.

  Rein sighed and polished off his drink, welcoming the slow burn down his throat.

  “You’ve always had a great inner strength, Rein. Liberty knows it. She can depend on it. You’re both going to need it. She’s a good woman. I can’t believe she’s Eloise’s kid. She’s not a thing like her mom, thank your lucky stars.”

  He frowned. It was one thing to have memories so vivid of what someone dear once said to you, but quite another to have those memories reference the present.

  “Is that really you?” he asked, scanning the dark house around him.

  Outside the sound of an owl hooted twice, then all was silent.

  He looked around. “So, that’s it, then?” Shaking his head, he stood and placed his glass in the sink.

  “Not
exactly.”

  The voice appeared again and Rein clung to the sides of the countertop. Outside, perched on the deck railing, sat the Great White Owl. He peered straight at Rein.

  “I’ve wanted to thank you for helping bring my dream of the ranch to life. It means a great deal to me, son, that you set your sights on making it happen and brought your brothers up to speed with the idea. I’m proud that each of you had a hand in the process. You built a family, beyond the three of you. Tell Wyatt I’m glad to see Michael at the ranch. Listen to him, he’s a good man, but don’t work him too hard. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

  “Uh…okay,” Rein answered. Though he wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the possibility that he was losing his mind. “This sounds like you’re leaving. Why not tell Wyatt yourself?” Even as he spoke the words, he felt the answer deep down.

  “You and I are more alike than you realize, son. I was pleased to see you kept the red suit. It fit pretty good with a little padding. Wear it in good health. It’s helped a lot of children believe again.”

  Something foreign jarred loose in Rein. Believing.

  “You realize, of course, how weird this is to be talking to an owl?”

  “How do you think I feel?” his uncle answered.

  “So, there is some truth to the legend that a spirit that was good on earth connects to an animal’s spirit and lives on?”

  “So it would seem. Damn glad it wasn’t a grizzly. I wouldn’t have been able to get very close before one of you took a pot shot at me.”

  “I miss you, Jed. We all do.” For whatever reason, when he didn’t think too hard about it, talking to Jed the owl wasn’t half bad.

  “I miss you boys, too. But the ranch is in capable hands, the town is improving, and your families are growing.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed--”

  “Believe, Rein. You see a table from a slab of wood, a frame from an old barn siding. Most folks don’t put that much stock into believing in something. It’s those that do that generally wind up reaping the reward.”

  “Sounds great, Uncle Jed, on a Hallmark card. I’m not sure how it applies in my case.”