Ruth Herne - The Lawman's Holiday Wish

“You want to run the booth yourself?” Piper asked, glancing at her and Lucia with concern. “You’re comfortable with that?”

What Piper meant was could she handle the knowing looks and possible nasty remarks people might make?

Rainey shrugged. “I love working in the dairy store and overseeing the milk production in the back room. And I like people. Right now, a lot of local folks don’t trust me. Helping at the festival will give them a chance to see me in a new light. If we fix this now, it will have less impact on our holiday sales, and we all know that fourth-quarter sales could make or break the year for us.”

“There could be repercussions,” Zach cautioned. “Are you ready for that, Rainey? People might act stupid, given the chance.”

“Yes.” She answered with conviction, but fought the internal threat of foreboding. “Dad used to say ‘Peace begins with a smile.’”

“Mother Teresa’s saying.” The reminder of their father’s gentle ways made Piper smile.

“So.” Zach brought them back to the practical. “What do we need for your booth? We’ll make a list of supplies that Dad and I can get. You ladies have enough on your plates with the wedding. You tell me how you want the booth to look, and Dad and I will create it.”

Rainey handed him a pencil sketch. “Done.”

He laughed and pocketed the paper. “You don’t waste time.”

“Well, I used to.” She sent the group a small grimace of remorse. “But not anymore. And the best steel comes from the toughest forging, right?”

“Amen.”

The group started to disband, but Piper paused near Rainey before following Zach outside. “You’ve come a long way.”

Rainey nodded.

“But I don’t want you to push yourself too far. I want you to feel comfortable. At peace.”

Rainey hugged her. “I will,” she promised. “But I can’t sit back and let things happen if there’s a way to fix them. That’s a quality I learned from you, Piper. And my mother.”

“We’ll do all we can,” her sister promised.

“I don’t move into my own house until the first week of November, and I’m not on call the weekend of the festival,” Julia interjected. “Let me work the stand with you. It would give me a chance to meet people here. As long as Lucia would be willing to have the boys underfoot.”

“Doing farm work won’t bother you?” Rainey asked.

“Not at all. Why?”

“Well, you’re a midwife now.” Rainey reminded her, as if that was reason enough to bow out of festival farm help. “A professional.”

Julia laughed. “Once a farm girl, always a farm girl. And while I wasn’t big on the cows, I love the marketing stuff. Farm stands, fairs, the people. Sign me up, Rainey. I’m glad to help.”

“Will do.”

Rainey helped her mother straighten up the kitchen. Bags of freshly made croutons lined one counter, ready for sale. A list of chores sat alongside the bags. Lucia’s organization and planning had helped make the farm business a slowly growing success over the past decade and a half. Now, with Marty’s investment and partnership, McKinney Farms could become a flagship enterprise. This was the chance they’d all been waiting for.

“Rainey.”

“Hmm?” She turned and was engulfed by her mother’s warm embrace. She’d caused her mom so much grief over the years. She had no way to repay Lucia for her constant faith, which was so undeserved. Rainey hugged her mother back, but then Lucia created a little distance between them and met her gaze.

“You are not to make yourself crazy over this.” Lucia waved to the store. “We will do our best and people will come around, but I do not want you to back-step.”

“Backslide.” Rainey smiled at the misused word. “I won’t, Mama, I—”

“I say this because I know my daughter best,” Lucia insisted. “I knew you were not guilty of that crime and I know you wear this too much on your heart. I don’t want for you to have more nightmares. More pain.”

Nightmares had dogged Rainey after her prison stint, but she was better these days. Most of the time. “I’m stronger now. Don’t worry. Didn’t you just tell me worry is not what God wants for us?”

Lucia sighed and frowned. “Yes, but—”

“No buts. I’m taking the girls over to Luke Campbell’s house tomorrow afternoon once the store quiets down. If Marly and Noreen need help, can they call you?”

“Of course. But Luke Campbell? How did you meet him?”

“At the school,” Rainey explained. “It seems our children enjoy being naughty together.”

Lucia’s broad face split into a smile. “That is quite true. Each one thinking of some new way to put gray in my hair, but so sweet. Sweeter, though, when they sleep.”

Rainey laughed. “Well, we’re trying to work together to make them more comfortable in school. And maybe I can get the twins to help with the festival project.”

“And being with the girls is good for his boy.” Lucia nodded, satisfied. “I think this is good. His family is big and nice and they care for each other always.”

Her words reminded Rainey of the family she’d longed for as a child. She’d wanted the American dream. The Cosby Show come to life. Even after her mother married Tucker McKinney, money problems were pervasive. Getting the farm back on solid ground after Tucker’s wife had taken her share of the farm’s assets had been a struggle of work, work and more work.

Rainey had rebelled, too immature to realize that God blessed the work of human hands.

She’d been a foolish child, then a disrespectful teenager, but she’d changed. Now if she could only convince the community of that.

Chapter Three

On Saturday afternoon Luke scrubbed damp palms against the sides of his jeans and frowned.

Why did Rainey’s impending arrival with the twins make him nervous? Piper had brought the girls over plenty of times in the past.

This isn’t Piper.

This was Rainey, the bad-girl sister, the object of community-wide speculation, most of it negative.

He firmed his jaw, determined to keep things easy, friendly, and then she pulled into the driveway. The girls tumbled out of the backseat, laughing and racing to join Aiden in the tree house, with barely a hello to Luke.

He scarcely saw them. His attention was drawn to Rainey. His breath caught somewhere deep in his chest as she stepped out of the car. She’d clipped her long wave of hair into some kind of barrette behind her head. The hairstyle accented the perfect oval of her face, the high cheekbones, the delicate arch of her neck and throat. A tiny gold cross hung on a thin chain. She watched the girls race across the yard, then turned his way.

She saw his expression. Read his look.

She stood perfectly still, her eyes on his, and for the life of him, Luke didn’t want to break the connection. Finally, he moved forward, feeling like a gawky teen. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She flashed him a quiet smile and arched one brow in the direction of the tree. “They’re fine up there?”

“Have been so far. Notice I put rails around the edge, so they can’t fall.”

“Except from the ladder.”

He nodded. “I was thinking of adding a cushioned landing for them, just in case.”

“Or don’t, so they learn to hold on tight, because it really isn’t all that high.”

Luke sucked in a breath. Her advice sounded like something his family would say. “Life comes with enough peril attached.”

Rainey moved toward the tree house as she answered. “The more prepared we are, the better our chances of survival.”

“You think I baby Aiden.”

She turned, still smiling, and he saw no censure in her gaze. “I don’t know you well enough to make an assumption like that, and I’m stumbling through parenthood myself, so I’m not about to judge you on your methods.” Her tone didn’t condemn, it offered acceptance, and that felt good to Luke after the verbal scoldings he’d been getting lately. “I know life is a precious gift, and God expects us to take care of our children, heart and soul. That’s a balancing act right there.”