Silence settled over the table and I heard an old classic country song I’d loved for years. “Put your sweet lips…” Jim Reeves sang. “We’ll Have to Go” was the title. It brought back a lot of memories of winter nights when Cece was Cecil and we’d gathered in the enormous third-floor ballroom of the big Falcon home for get-togethers and high school gossip fests. Even then, Cecil had been one of the girls, a friend who had real elegance in helping us dress and do our hair. No one knew what to call his difference—or cared to call it anything. He was Cecil Falcon, a little eccentric but so smart and always kind. He was merely our friend. While his mother made pizzas or coke floats, we’d raided his father’s record collection for those golden oldies. Good memories.
“Earth to Sarah Booth!” Tinkie waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you formulating a plan or tripping through a daydream.”
“Memory Lane,” I said. I reached across the table and grasped both their hands. “We’ve been through a lot and survived. All of us. We can’t forget that or let despair stop us. Together we can make this right.”
“What memory are you visiting?” Cece asked. “The time you and Coleman blew up the high school chemistry lab with some wild ass concoction you’d made? Everyone knew it was you but the teachers didn’t want to believe Coleman was involved with it. Funny how no one really came to your defense.” She grinned wickedly. “You were trouble from the get-go.”
“We didn’t blow up the chemistry lab,” I corrected. “There was only a slight explosion. Yes, some beakers were broken, there was a small fire, and Mr. Bryant evacuated the entire school because he thought the mix of chemicals and flames would blow everyone to Mars.” I had to defend myself, and Coleman, though it had been his idea to make sure we got out of school a few days early for Christmas holidays. “No one was injured.”
“Not true! Not true!” Tinkie crowed. “Mrs. Bradley, the Spanish teacher, had heart palpitations and had to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital. The principal called all the students that took chemistry into his office, one by one, and gave them a spanking.” She skewered me with a look. “And not a one of them tattled on you and Coleman.”
That school year I was on my last chance. If I’d been reported, I would’ve been expelled. My friends had stepped up for me. “It wasn’t that bad. It was a minor explosion.”
“You singed Betty Sue Olty’s hair completely off. She was bald for weeks.” Tinkie was trying not to laugh. “Who knew Coleman would grow up to be the sheriff and you a private investigator?”
“The explosion was an accident. We honestly didn’t plan it.” They all teased me about deliberately blowing up the lab, but in truth, that hadn’t been my intention. I’d meant only to generate a lot of smoke so that we could rush out of the building like in a fire drill. The ultimate goal was to avoid a test just before the holidays and to start the holidays a few days early. For the last day of school before Christmas holidays and before I was expelled, I’d been a high school hero. Then I’d been caught. Expulsion loomed, and worse than that Aunt Loulane would have been heartbroken. Luckily I’d negotiated a deal for leniency before I admitted my sins.
“You never let on that Coleman was involved,” Cece said. “You loved him even then. You took the whole rap for him.”
I smiled. “I don’t know that I loved him. His father would have hurt him. I knew Aunt Loulane would be ‘disappointed’ but not violent. I’d survive with little cost. The same couldn’t be said for Coleman.”
Tinkie looked dreamy eyed. “Cece is right. Even then you had a thing for Coleman and everyone knew it but you two. I remember that Christmas. Squatty Mayfield had that big Christmas party and her friends smuggled in a lot of liquor. Folks got really drunk. She’d set her cap for Coleman, but he escaped with his honor.” Tinkie laughed. “She offered to pay me to get you drunk and out of the way.”
“Coleman wasn’t…” I didn’t finish. The truth was, I’d shared a slow dance with him that left me tingling and disturbed. I was innocent and hadn’t known what to make of my reaction. And he’d lurked in the background after that dance. He watched me, but he didn’t ask for another dance. He didn’t try to talk to me. I’d flirted with some of the other boys because I didn’t understand why he was so stand-offish.
“And remember that night we all went caroling.” Cece grinned wickedly. “Coleman was your shadow, and you didn’t even notice. He followed you everywhere you went, like he was guarding you.”
“It was a long wait, but now she’s making his Christmas bells jingle!” Tinkie cleared her throat. “Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!” She hit the last la with a high note that stopped all conversation in the bar. “Sorry, my friend was remembering a Christmas encounter with the man of her dreams,” she said to a lot of cheering and clapping. “She’s really learned how to ring her boyfriend’s holiday bells.”
Cece stood up and lifted her glass. “To good friends and hot sex.”
As much as I wanted to throttle them, I couldn’t help laughing along with them. It was the first time I’d seen Cece happy since Eve had gone missing. There were possibly some hard days ahead, so it was good enough to just let them have their fun.
We’d strayed far afield from a plan to go with Cece to make the money drop. And I motioned them back to their chairs. “Okay, here’s the plan. Cece, if you’re determined to do this without Coleman’s help, which I advise against, here’s what we can do.”
They both drew closer, and I lowered my voice. “We’ll meet at the Christmas pageant, and we’ll each leave to go to the ladies’ room about ten minutes before it begins. The men will be busy with makeup and costuming, and that’ll be our best chance to leave without them. They’re going to dim the house lights while the pageant is being performed. The men won’t know we’re gone until the show is over and the lights come up. By then we’ll have Eve.”
“They’re going to be very angry.” Tinkie was solemn. Oscar put up with a lot from her, but this was a straw that would weigh very heavy on the camel’s back.
“I know.” Cece’s features had fallen back into the lines of worry that had drawn harsh furrows between her brows and at the corners of her mouth. “I’m so sorry to put you in this place. I am.”
Tinkie shook her head. “This is part and parcel of friendship. Don’t be sorry. You’d do the same for me or Sarah Booth. The men would do it for their friends. It’ll just take a little while for them to see that.”
I wasn’t so certain Coleman would forgive me, but as Tinkie noted, it wasn’t a choice for us. Love was a peculiar beast, and life tested it all the time. I didn’t want to deceive Coleman. My fondest wish would be to spend the evening at the Christmas pageant watching the three most important men in my life pretend to be wise men in the telling of the birth of baby Jesus. But my friend Cece was in a desperate place, and the least I could do was be with her. Torn between two loyalties was a truly unpleasant spot to be in. We left Odell’s with the outside Christmas lights pulsing red, green, and white to Brenda Lee’s rendition of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.”
On the way home, I called Coleman to let him know I was headed to Dahlia House and to invite him for a sleepover. I couldn’t stop the excitement that swept over me when he agreed. After my breakup with Graf, I’d really thought I’d be alone. If not for the rest of my life, at least for a good long time. Now, I would celebrate Christmas with a man who was as deeply rooted in the Delta soil as I was. My mother had never really talked to me about true love or marriage. I was only twelve when she died. But she had shown me about the things in life that were real and how even when she was mad at James Franklin, as she called my daddy, that she always respected him. “Respect is what lives through the hard times,” she’d said. I’d always respected Coleman because he had no bluster, no need to be the big man in anyone’s eyes. He owned the ground he stood on. I wanted him to view me the same way.
In half an hour, I pulled into Dahlia House with Sweetie Pie and Pluto. The night was crisp and my breath fogged when I exhaled, but it wasn’t a bitter night. The damp had stayed behind near the river. Instead of going in the house with Pluto, Sweetie bayed her long, mournful howl and set out around the house. Slightly concerned, I followed.
The light in the barn was on.
The hair all over my body stood on end. Who the hell was in my barn with my horses? I slipped back to my car and got my gun out of the trunk. I’d started carrying it only a few cases back—after I’d come close to death. I wasn’t a terrific shot, but I was good enough to protect myself. If I had to.
I eased from shadow to shadow, edging closer to the barn. I heard nothing from inside except the snuffling of the horses and the stamping of their feet. They should have been out in the pasture, though. Not in the barn. They only came in to eat unless it was raining or snowing. I moved to the crack in the doors and peeped into the interior. All three horses were in stalls munching hay.
I hesitated, trying to decide how to handle this. Before I could do anything, an arm slipped around my waist from behind and a hand went over my mouth. “Be very still,” a man whispered in my ear in a strange raspy voice.
I wanted to ask him what he wanted, but I couldn’t force words past his palm. And he held me very tight. Too tight. So tight that I felt something quite alarming pressing against my hips. I tried to turn around, but he wouldn’t release me.
“Be still,” he whispered.
Not a chance. I stomped his foot as hard as I could. Because I was wearing my paddock boots, I could put a lot of force into that maneuver.
“Hey,” he sputtered, turning me loose.
I whipped around, gun drawn, ready to plug the deviant. “Coleman!” I was surprised. “You were disguising your voice!”
“Just a little fun,” he said, hopping on the foot I hadn’t stomped. “Damn, I didn’t think you’d cripple me.”
“You molested me!” I saw the humor in our peccadillo, but I wanted to keep him on the hook a little longer.
“No, I merely apprehended you. It’s not my fault you’re a sexy beast. Your body communicated with my body, and … well … nature took its course.”
“What are you doing out here in the barn?” Coleman was an accomplished equestrian, but he didn’t hang out in the barn on dark winter nights.
“I thought we might go for a midnight ride. Maybe go to some nearby houses and carol.”
“You have heard me sing, right?” No one ever wanted me to carol. Even humming was forbidden by my crew.
“It’s the thought that counts, Sarah Booth. You don’t claim to be Judy Garland.”
That was an odd choice of singers. She’d been one of my father’s favorites. “Over the Rainbow” was a song he often sang walking around the farm. I looked at the horses. Reveler and Lucifer were already saddled and waiting. Coleman wasn’t playing around.
I whistled up my hound. Sweetie Pie would be devastated if I left her behind. “Let’s ride!”
The moon was full and bright as we led the horses out into the yard. I climbed up on Reveler while Coleman mounted Lucifer. The fiery Andalusian was a perfect match for the wicked glint in Coleman’s eye.
The farm fields were fallow. Away from the pastures I’d cut out for my horses, the land was wide open, without fencing. There were trails around the fields that farm vehicles traveled when the lease holder, Billy Watson, plowed and planted. The heavy equipment had packed the earth so that the trails were solid footing for the horses, and the moon gave plenty of light—enough to cast shadows. As we set off at a trot, our black silhouettes followed, giving me a sense of how so many things in my life were like shades that followed behind me.
As Coleman leaned into Lucifer’s mane, giving the signal to gallop, I had no time to worry about the past tagging after me. I embraced the moment, leaning forward in two-point and giving Reveler his head. He surged forward, taking the lead from Lucifer and Coleman. And the race was on. As Lucifer drew abreast of me, Reveler shortened his stride.
The wind bit my ears with a nasty snap, and my hands were frozen on the reins since I’d failed to grab riding gloves, but I didn’t care. Coleman rode beside me so close our knees were almost touching. Our horses were matched stride for stride, and the need to win fell away from both of us. We rode as one, a rhythm that wasn’t lost on me—or Coleman if the look he shot me was any indication. I went from cold to hot in a nanosecond.
We rode through the night, covered at least five miles, before Coleman motioned me into a small brake where the thick growth of trees served as both a windbreak and an indicator that a small stream cut through. As we stepped into the secluded area, I stopped in amazement. Twinkle lights had been strung in the trees. In a small clearing, wood had been stacked for a fire. Nearby was a bale of alfalfa hay for the horses—a treat for them over their normal Bermuda grass hay. And there were pillows and blankets and champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, which was possibly unnecessary on the cold night.
“What is this?” I asked, though I knew full well.
“You’ve been so busy, I thought I’d plan a little Christmas celebration. Tomorrow night is the pageant, and we’ll be busy with friends all evening. I wanted to have some time alone.”
My heart pounded as I slipped from the saddle. Coleman had thought to leave halters for the horses so we could take their bridles off and allow them to eat the hay freely. He’d thought of everything. Even a big, meaty bone for Sweetie Pie, who’d found it and started gnawing beside the fire Coleman lit.
In the center of the blankets was a beautifully wrapped gift. “I didn’t bring a present for you.” How could I have known?
“It’s okay. This is a present for both of us.”
It was a very flat box to hold a present for two. “Summons to court?” I guessed. “Wanted poster of the two of us? What could it be?”
“Let’s have a glass of champagne and then open it.”
“You’re a master with a party agenda.” I eased under some of the soft blankets that smelled of cedar and pine. Coleman really had thought of everything, even the scent of the season. I accepted the glass of bubbly Coleman filled for me. When he had his glass, he eased down beside me under the blankets and I curled into him. This was magic, a moment of absolute pleasure—my favorite things—created for me by Coleman. And the best of all was the solidness of his body against mine, the feel of him, so real and there.
He handed me the present and I pulled the bow loose and opened the paper and box. It took a moment for the tickets to register. Two tickets for Ireland. “Budgie is doing some research on the Delaney family, Sarah Booth. We’re going to the Emerald Isle to find some relatives for you. If it works out, next Christmas maybe you’ll have family to celebrate with, too.”
Emotion stopped me from answering. I clutched the box and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” Inadequate words to convey what I felt. It seemed my heart had expanded inside my ribs. “Do you think we’ll find someone I’m related to?”
He kissed my forehead. “We will. Even if I have to pay them to accept you into the family.”
It was the perfect answer. I laughed and felt the pressing emotion pass, leaving only wild joy and anticipation. I was going to Ireland with Coleman!
The fire crackled and cast a warm glow on us as we snuggled, sipping the champagne and letting the night sounds of a hoot owl echo over the field. This was a moment to hold tight. I would remember it forever. A few clinging dead leaves rustled in a soft nature musical. I had a terrible thought! What if Jitty showed up dancing through the night in some nutcracker costume?
“What’s wrong?” Coleman was incredibly intuitive.
“I was thinking of a dead relative,” I said, opting not to lie completely.
“Someone you love?”
“Oh, yes. More than she’ll ever know.” I did love Jitty.
He leaned down and kissed me, a tender kiss that built quickly to something quite different. We broke apart, tossed back the champagne, and then free of the glasses, engaged in a searing kiss. The blankets and fire had chased the chill away and so when Coleman began to remove my clothes, I was already battling an internal flame that demanded his attention.
I unzipped his jacket and worked the buttons on his shirt. We took our time, letting the firelight play over bare flesh. The thing I loved best about Coleman—one of the many—was his ease in his own skin. He never gave a thought to his appearance as long as he was neat and clean. I never saw him look in a mirror to check his reflection. He prepared for the day and went about his work. The firelight caught the hairs on his chest and gave them a reddish gold burnish, and I ran my hands over them, marveling at the sculpted muscles of his chest and torso. He wasn’t a man who worked out in a gym—he worked out in real life. He’d chopped a winter’s worth of firewood for Dahlia House. He’d taken to showing up to fix a fence or sweep out the hayloft for the new winter supply. He did the things that all Delta boys and men knew to do to prepare for the coming season.
“You’ve traveled far away, Sarah Booth,” he said.
I was finally aware he was watching me. “Not so far. I was just thinking of your thoughtfulness in helping me at the farm.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“I know you do the same for some of the older people.” He did. DeWayne, his deputy, told me about Coleman’s good deeds.
“When I can.”
“All that hard work sure looks good on you.” My hands moved over his bare chest and upper arms. “You’re a fine specimen of a man.”
His hands circled my waist and lifted me astride him. “We’re lucky, Sarah Booth. We have everything, including good health. Now I suggest we take advantage of it.”
I didn’t answer. I bent and kissed him, letting our passion rekindle in that flash flame of desire that swept everything else away. For a time it was just our breathing, our bodies, and the devouring passion that consumed us.