Winter's Secret (24 page)

What did Wendy think of Veda's poison-pen letter to the editor? The answer was easy. It had hurt her. If even half of what he'd been told were true, Veda's treatment of Wendy had been criminal. He wished meanness were a punishable offense. Arresting Veda for all the times she'd wounded Wendy would be very satisfying. "

He had better things to think on. He would be spending Christmas with Wendy and Harlan—a pleasant thought. Though with the unsolved burglaries hanging over him, Rodd had hardly felt in the holiday mood. But he'd do everything he could to make Wendy's and Harlan's Christmas without Sage as cheerful as possible. Wendy deserved his poor best and she would get it.

"Merry Christmas!" Bruno, with Ma at his side, appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Sorry we missed the caroling."

"No gingerbread for you then!" Pastor Bruce shook his finger at the older couple.

"You'll forgive us." Bruno beamed at everyone. "We had to drive to Rice Lake before this next snowstorm moved in for Christmas."

"What did you have to do in Rice Lake?" Harlan asked, a smile splitting his face.

Bruno held up Ma's left hand. "We had to buy a ring. Lou has consented to be my wife!"

Chapter Fourteen

On Christmas Eve the wind howled around Harlan's eighty-year-old farmhouse as Wendy hung another gold-glittered but faded red glass ball on the Christmas tree. Fresh pine scented the air. At her elbow, Bruno was hanging silver tinsel, strand by strand. "This is so much fun. I haven't helped decorate a proper Christmas tree for years," Bruno said.

In spite of her inner turmoil, Wendy smiled at him. "We never have room for a big one in the trailer." Once more against her will, she glanced toward the back door with longing. She dragged her mind back to Bruno. "Grandfather's tree is the one Sage and I always look forward to. Don't you want to help, Ma?"

Ma sat on the sofa, crocheting an afghan. "No, it's just fun watching you two fussing around. Besides I can't put one strand on at a time like Bruno can. Too impatient, but I do like how it looks when he does that."

Noticing how Ma's gruff voice had softened, Wendy hung another ball, this one a pale blue satin. The ball trembled on the short-needled branch. Ma marrying Bruno--who would have thought it?

An image of the sheriff popped into her mind. Where are you, Rodd? You should be here by now. Her effort to appear unconcerned about the sheriff's delay tightened Wendy's neck. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to release the tension.

"Are you tired, Wendy?" her grandfather asked.

Startled, she shook her head. She'd hoped she'd masked her worry better

Grandfather turned on the small radio by his recliner. Lady was asleep at his feet. "Let's hear the weather report."

Wendy had noticed that he'd been repeatedly glancing toward the back door too. Grandfather wouldn't relax completely until all his "chicks" were in for the night.

Ma humphed. "Why? You know it's going to be bad news. Blizzard warning has been on since last night."

Bruno spoke up. "It's kind of pleasant to enjoy the contrast." He paused with a string of tinsel between his thumb and forefinger. "I mean, here we all are—friends and family—snug by the fire, plenty of food, a Christmas tree. But outside the snow is blowing and it's icy. It just makes me feel all the more cozy—especially since you're here with me, Lou."

Ma blushed a fiery red. "That sweet talk of yours." She shook her crochet hook at him. "It's all right for you, but here is Wendy. She's on call. What if someone gets sick? I don't want her to have to go out in this. And the sheriff should have been here an hour ago."

"Oh. I didn't think about that." Bruno's face lost its glow

"Don't—," Wendy started to speak.

Out of the crackling static, the radio announcer's voice came in clear. "You won't want to hear this, but more snow tonight. Aren't we lucky? We're going to have the whitest white Christmas in America. And watch out for those powerful gusts—the wind chill is subzero. Santa had better wear his long johns." Then the radio played a rollicking "Here Comes Santa Claus."

A motor sounded outside. Everyone turned toward the back windows; even Lady lifted her head. But night revealed only headlights.
Oh, let it be Rodd
. The back door opened. The sound of the thrashing wind outside zoomed in volume. "It's me, Harlan." Rodd slammed the door and stamped the snow off his boots in the back hall.

Wendy recognized the voice and her heart thumped with relief.

Rodd had made it safe and sound. She tried to moderate her reaction to Rodd's arrival, but in vain. Now it can be Christmas.

"Glad you didn't bother knocking, son!" Harlan called out with a big smile on his face. "We saved you some of my chili and Ma's homemade ice cream and chocolate chip cookies."

"Sounds wonderful. You did say your chili, right, Harlan?" Rodd's teasing voice carried through to the living room.

Wendy's joy exploded. How good of Rodd to come in so cheerful. "Hey. It's Christmas Eve," she joked back. "Watch the comments about my cooking or you'll get coal in your stocking."

"Okay. Okay. I haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm so hungry I'd eat anyone's chili."

Trying not to show her eagerness to see him, Wendy strolled into the kitchen. "I'll fix a tray for you, and you can join us in the living room. Bruno and I are decorating the tree."

Rodd walked to the sink to wash his hands. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that."

The cold air that had blown in with him couldn't compete with the warmth she now felt having him near. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she dished up a generous serving of the chili still simmering on the stove. Now that he'd safely arrived, she could try to help him put Veda and the investigation behind him for tonight. After the caroling party last evening, she'd fretted and finally decided she would speak to Rodd about Veda's letter. But would she have a chance for a private word with him tonight? Not very likely, with a houseful of people.

Rodd finished drying his hands on a towel. His gaze captured hers and her hands stilled. His eyes told her she was beautiful. Rolling his weight to one side, he leaned his hip against the counter. The pose somehow sharpened her awareness of him. She blushed and turned back to the task at hand. She poured him coffee, added crackers beside the heaping bowl of chili already on the tray.

"Let me carry that for you." Rodd stepped close to her as she turned from the stove.

His nearness shivered through her, sharpening her connection to him. Was it only her concern about him or was it his powerful presence that worked on her emotions? Still, she managed to give a cool reply. "Glad you were able to come." She handed him the rectangular tray.

"Me too. Looks like we're going to have a house party."

"Yes, I'm glad Grandfather decided we should all come prepared to stay the night." How could her voice still sound nonchalant? She glanced up and focused on his eyes. In the dim light, they glowed silver blue.

Rodd nodded for her to precede him. "I took care of my stock earlier in the afternoon. I didn't want to wait until the weather got so bad that I couldn't get to them. They're all safe and snug in the barn. I won't have to check on them again till tomorrow late. I'll probably use my snowmobile to get home."

Just before they entered the living room, he leaned forward and whispered to her, "Thanks for pointing out that Harlan would worry about me if I didn't come to stay over." He raised his voice. "I hope other people think ahead. It would take a load off my mind."

She agreed. That's what she wanted to do, take the load off the sheriff's mind ...and heart. Now she realized how hard it had been for him to accept this invitation. In light of the dangerous weather, she'd expect that Rodd would want to be out making sure everyone in his county was safely accounted for. Thinking he might refuse Grandfather's invitation, she'd called him earlier that day and put the invitation to him as a favor to her grandfather. It had worked and it was true. Grandfather would have fretted over Rodd's spending the holiday without friends or family.

Side by side, Wendy and Rodd walked into the living room, extra warm from the glowing fireplace. Rodd settled on the couch beside Ma, ready to enjoy his supper. As Wendy returned to the tree, she felt the sheriff's gaze follow her, warming her all the way through.

"I wish this snow would let up," Grandfather said from his place near the fire.

"How are the roads?" Bruno asked.

"Treacherous." Rodd picked up his mug of coffee. "The county has shut everything down. The road crews can't keep up with the drifting. Except for one, I sent all my deputies home. That way they're spread out around the county. If an emergency comes up, the dispatcher will call the nearest deputy at their home."

"Sounds like good thinking." Ma moved the shiny pink crochet hook in and out of the off-white yam. "But with all the warnings and predictions, most everyone should be smart enough to stay home or inside."

Wendy hoped that included the snowmobile burglar. She didn't worry about her trailer in town being burglarized, but Bruno, Ma, and even Rodd had left their homes unattended. She also didn't want to point out that in her experience, some people didn't have much common sense. This was a night ripe for emergency calls—for both of them.
Please, Lord, no emergencies.

But now with Rodd sitting on her grandfather's sofa, Wendy began humming along with the carols on the radio. The wind flapped the shutters outside, while Rodd ate two helpings of chili and Ma finished several more rows on the afghan. Harlan dozed in his recliner. Wendy and Bruno continued decorating the tree. She sighed and said a silent prayer of thanks. Tonight, even thinking about Veda's nastiness didn't have its usual power to depress her. What a lovely, peaceful Christmas Eve.

At last the tree was decorated. When the room lamps were switched off, the tree glowed with green, red, and white twinkle lights along with the firelight. Wendy sat down in the rocking chair in the shadows, gazing at her handiwork and Rodd. She'd sensed Rodd's reassuring presence filling the room. How did Rodd have this effect? Did he make everyone feel safe and protected just by being near? Or was it just her ?

Outside, the roar of a motor interrupted their peace. Everyone looked toward the windows—though the night and falling snow made it impossible to see out. Lady barked. Rodd rose from the sofa. Leaning forward at the window, he cupped his hands around his eyes, trying to see. "It's a truck."

Wendy got up, folding her arms around herself, feeling a sympathetic chill for the person outside.

Rodd reported, "Someone's getting out."

She started toward the back door.

Rodd reached out and stopped her. "I'll get it. Whoever it is doesn't look too steady on his feet."

She looked into his eyes with an unspoken concern. It might be Uncle Dutch after hours of drinking at Flanagan's. Had he decided to take Harlan's invitation? She worried her lower lip.

The sheriff gave her a reassuring nod, then went to the back door and stood looking out through its high window.

"Who is it?" she asked, keyed up.

"I don't recognize him. That's a good sign." He glanced back at her.

She locked gazes with him, then looked away. His attention only attuned her to him more. Who was the visitor? Would the sheriff have to go out? Would she?

At the first knock, Rodd opened the door. "Yes?"

"Wendy, got to talk to Wendy." The man lurched inside. Bitter wind poured through the open door.

Slamming it shut, Rodd reached out and steadied him. "Are you ill? Is someone injured?"

The tall man buried in a fleece-lined jean jacket stared at Rodd and then jerked away. "I need to get ...Wendy. Juanita ...will listen to her."

Wendy recognized the man. "Kane," she said as she approached him, "what's happened?"

Kane looked at her as though trying to identify her. "Wendy. You gotta ...talk to Juanita. She won't let me in. But ...it's Christmas. Gotta be with my kids."

Rodd questioned Wendy with a lift of his eyebrows. He hovered behind Kane, ready to restrain him.

She responded with a slight movement of her hand, forestalling Rodd. "Kane." She sighed aloud. "You know she won't let you in if you've been drinking."

"I didn't drink too much—just a few beers."

Why did he even bother with explanations? "Kane, you know you can't handle liquor."

"Wendy—"

She held up both hands to stop him from more useless pleas. "I'll call Juanita if you sit down here and stay calm." Wendy's stern voice worked on the man. She pushed a kitchen chair forward and Kane slumped into it. "Now I'll call, but it will be Juanita's choice if you see them tonight or tomorrow."

Kane stared at her. "Gotta see my kids," he pleaded.

Wendy studied him, then walked to the wall phone and dialed. "Hello, Juanita, this is Wendy Carey. Kane's here at my grandfather's."

"Keep him there," Juanita snapped. "I told him if he wanted to be—''

Wendy agreed, but why hadn't Juanita told him to spend the night with friends or his family? "I already told him it was your decision whether or not he could see the kids."