The Wrangler’s Christmas Gift (The Malones of Grand, Montana #4)

Chapter Thirteen

“Y ou did it!”

Father Patrick walked toward the corral at Belle Vista, where Colt had just unloaded three camels.

“Told you I had skills,” he said with a grin.

“Sue Anne will have kittens.”

The priest walked up to the animals, who were padding around, investigating their new enclosure. Bayleigh Sutherland had generously agreed to allow Father Patrick to keep his animal actors at Belle Vista. The festival ran for a full week, and the nativity scene would be open for three hours each evening. The animals would travel to and from Belle Vista each day, which wasn’t ideal, but the owner promised that they were accustomed to trailering and, so far, Colt hadn’t seen any behavior to suggest otherwise.

“Where on earth did you find them?”

“Finding camels in Montana isn’t the problem,” Colt said. “The army brought them out here in the 1800s, as pack animals. They’re tough as nails, can survive on the roughest of graze and sagebrush and can easily travel thirty to fifty miles per day. But handling them can be a challenge. They don’t tolerate abuse. The invention of the railroad ended the need for them and other pack animals, of course, and they were sold off. Some escaped, though, and rumors abound about feral camels still out there in the wild.” He reached out to pat the neck of the nearest. “These are nice ones, though.”

The festival opened in two days, and between the camels, the donkey and the sheep, they were set with livestock. The temporary enclosures had been set up, straw and hay delivered, lighting installed and actors chosen from among the high school drama club for the main players. They’d be using a doll to play the Christ child, however. It was too cold to use a real infant.

Even Sue Anne Nylund was happy with what they’d accomplished. They would meet their goals for attendance and donations, the city would match the dollar figure, and the women’s shelter in Forsyth would get a badly needed cash infusion.

After discussing the last remaining details, the priest thanked Colt again, gave Festus a pat on the head, and left. Colt double-checked the enclosure and feed supply for the camels, was about to head for his cabin when he encountered Ted, the owner’s son.

“Camels, huh?” said Ted, who looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years old. “Cool.”

“Yeah,” Colt replied. “Your mom is kindly letting them stay here when they’re not in use at the festival.”

“They rideable?”

Colt laughed. “Not if you value your life.”

“Aw, come on, man.” Ted rested his elbows on the top rung of the corral. The camels looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Father Patrick needs them to keep someone named Sue Anne off his back.” He glanced at Ted. “Do you know her?”

Ted raised his eyebrows. “Everyone knows her. She’s the school secretary and on the town council and the welcoming committee and the book club and who knows what all else. Mom says she’s a menace.”

Colt grinned. “How’s your mom doing?”

Ted’s smile faded. “Tired.”

“You excited about becoming a big brother?”

“I guess. It’s weird, seeing my mom pregnant.”

“Parents aren’t supposed to have sex, right?”

Ted shuddered. “You’re killing me.”

Colt thumped him on the shoulder. “Man up. They’re gonna need you.”

“If you say so.” He grimaced. “I like the guy and all, but it’s like living in a rom-com with Lucas here, now.”

“Imagine that set to the soundtrack of a baby crying.”

Ted gave him a dark look. “I’m gonna go now.”

Bayleigh Sutherland stepped onto the porch, her arms huddled over her chest against the cold. “Supper, Ted. Colt, we’ve got plenty if you’d like to stay.”

“Thank you,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I’m heading into town to meet Emmet. But I’ll see you for Christmas dinner at Diana’s?”

He hadn’t expected to be invited. He still wasn’t certain how Diana and Hetty were doing. He wasn’t sure what Em thought of his being here in Grand, at all, despite his assistance with the festival.

But he’d buy a poinsettia in town and he’d go, to support Hetty. Who knows, maybe he’d even have fun?

*

Em wanted to believe in Colt’s goodness. But she’d also seen his dark side. He’d let her down, let Hetty down, and she couldn’t forget that.

It had happened a few years after he’d aged out of the system. He wasn’t living with them officially, but Hetty kept close track of all her kids, making sure they knew they had a place with her, whether she was receiving money from the state for them or not. Now, Em recognized how much of what Hetty did for her kids was a direct result of the income from her Mel Brezo paintings. After Jolene’s death, Em had moved in with Hetty upstairs and while they both grieved hard, she was grateful for everything the two women had done to secure her future.

They had just spent the weekend at a hotel in Helena: Hetty at a conference for foster parents, Em hanging out at the pool with her book. She was stressed about what she would do after graduating high school. She’d been leaning toward veterinary medicine but feared she might not be able to meet the math requirements. She loved English and psychology and history, too. It was hard to decide. The thought of going off to college, leaving home, leaving Hetty and the cats, even leaving Colt, scared her. She’d hoped she and Hetty might explore the city a little or at least have time to talk, but there’d been no time.

She recalled with shame how she’d complained on the front step while Hetty got out her keys. “Why do you have to go to every single workshop? Don’t you know everything about the foster system already?”

She scuffed her heels on the stoop, eager to reunite with Jasper. He’d been a scrawny kitten, part Siamese, when Jolene had placed him in her arms, the last gift she’d received from mother, assisted by Hetty. Bruiser and Rosie had been unimpressed with the newcomer’s energy, but once Jasper had been relieved of his…manly bits…the other two accepted him.

Going away to college would mean leaving Jasper, too.

Hetty twisted the key in the lock, then used the second key to undo the dead bolt. “I wish, Em. Things change, politics affects everything, and I won’t be the one who lets some kid fall through the cracks because I wasn’t aware of a new policy.”

She wriggled the lock but the darn door had a sticky frame.

“Here, let me.” Em gave it a body check, and nearly fell inside when it came unstuck. “Jasper…?”

But the acrid smell of overused kitty litter wafting over the still air cut off her words. Colt had offered to stay at the house and look after the cats while they were away. Had he forgotten?

“Colt?” Hetty called.

She hurried inside but at the entrance to the kitchen, she stopped so short that Em bumped into her.

“What the—”

“Don’t move, Em,” Hetty said.

Shattered glass sparkled on the tile, pockmarked by small bloody paw prints.

“Jasper! Hetty, where are the cats?”

The animals usually greeted them with happy chirps and waving tails, but there was only stillness and the stench of neglect.

“Hang on, Em,” Hetty said, gripping her arm. “Stay here. Be quiet.”

Em felt her heart rate spike as Hetty did a security scan of the room, then moved throughout the house. Mako was no longer a threat, having been stabbed to death in prison, but the memory of that night was never far away.

A few minutes later, Hetty returned. “Doors are all secure, windows are all intact,” she reported with a frown.

“Jasper!” Em followed the footprints into the kitchen and immediately, her confusion turned to fear. The cats’ food bowls were empty, the water dishes, bone-dry. In the alcove near the back door, the litter boxes sat rank and overflowing.

Had something happened to Colt? The cats could manage a few nights alone, but only with adequate preparation, which they hadn’t done. Colt loved Bruiser and Rosie and he knew what Jasper meant to Emmet. Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone?

Hetty bent down and gathered the biggest shards of glass off the floor. “It’s my water glass,” she said. “I filled it before we left, but I forgot to drink it.”

Em stared at the mess. Had the cats knocked it over on purpose, for fun? Or had they been so thirsty that they’d tried to drink from the glass? There was no puddle of water on the floor. Which one had a cut paw?

The poor things. To be abandoned, as far as they were concerned, their basic needs left unattended…how terrifying for them.

“Colt wouldn’t let this happen,” Em said through tears.

“I’ll clean up here,” Hetty said. “You find the cats, make sure they’re okay.”

Em grabbed the treat container and shook it. “Here, kitty, kitty!”

Nothing.

“Colt was supposed to look after them,” she said. “He promised. He loves them!”

“I know.” Hetty swept the glass into a dustpan and threw it into the trash. “That’s why I’m worried.”

Em understood the importance of trust. It was the bedrock of everything Hetty did, the foundation of helping the kids and the animals she rescued, and it wasn’t easy to establish. Once broken, it was infinitely harder to rebuild.

“After everything Bruiser and Rosie went through as kittens,” Em said, furious. “How could he do this?”

“Colt wouldn’t just blow them off like this,” Hetty insisted.

Em headed for Hetty’s office, where the cats liked to sleep. “Bruiser?” she called. “Rosie?”

The tabbies peeked out warily, tails down, but once they saw her, they ran toward her, mewling. No cuts on their paws though they lapped eagerly when offered water.

Jasper, however, was nowhere to be found.

They called, searched, offered treats, squeaky toys and crunchy paper bags, but nothing. Finally, after twenty minutes of escalating worry, Em found him huddled inside the cabinet beneath the guest bathroom sink, peering out narrow-eyed and flat-eared from behind the plumbing pipes.

It took some convincing to get him out and when they did, they saw that his mouth and front paws were stained with blood. A shard of glass glistened from one foot pad. Had he licked it and cut his mouth? What if he’d swallowed some glass?

So, they popped him into the carrier and raced out to the animal hospital. While they waited for the technicians to conduct an initial exam, Hetty continued to try to reach Colt, but he didn’t answer.

Em, was sick with fear for Jasper, but once she’d been assured that his cuts would quickly heal, her fear changed direction. Tammy didn’t come around much anymore, which was bad enough. But Colt had been growing away from them lately, too, becoming quieter, more focused on his job, his car, and his friends, none of whom were headed anywhere good. Had one of them dragged him into something dangerous? Had he been hurt? Arrested? Left in a bathtub of ice without his kidneys?

He had to come back, and he had to come back soon. So she could kill him herself.

*

The night they’d returned from the conference, Heather had gone to bed heartsick. She refused to badmouth Colt in front of Emmet—all the kids she’d dealt with had trouble trusting adults and they’d all heard too much verbal abuse in their time. If she said bad things about Colt to Emmet, why should Em ever believe Heather wouldn’t say bad things about her to someone else?

No. She had to take the high road. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t call him to account.

And the fact that he still hadn’t answered his phone increased her worry that this wasn’t thoughtless…that something bad had happened to make him unable to fulfill his commitments.

She shuddered to think of what they might have come home to, had they not returned early. She couldn’t say for sure how long the cats had been left uncared for, but she guessed three days, minimum.

Cats were survivors, but Bruiser was prone to urinary tract blockages and this might trigger another episode. Poor Jasper was having trouble eating because of the cut on his tongue, but the veterinarian assured them it would heal quickly. Regular bandage changes and antibiotic cream would soon restore his foot to normal, also.

Em, however, wouldn’t recover so easily. She’d been hurt when Colt and Tammy started drifting away from them and Heather ached for her. The girlhood crush that began the night Mako attacked Jolene hadn’t abated, and she was filled with mixed emotions about it. Heather hoped the girl she thought of as her daughter might find an easy love, a partner without baggage, who could love her the way she deserved to be loved. Colt was going to be a fine man, eventually. She believed this. But his road would never be easy and loving someone with a tough past had hurt built in.

So, the next morning, when she heard his key in the lock, she went to the door before Em could reach it.

She’d engaged the flip lock and heard his ooff of surprise when he couldn’t push the door open.

“When did you get home?” was the first thing he said.

“Last night.” She didn’t open the door.

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, through the three-inch crack.

He had the grace to flush slightly. Whatever he said next was bound to be a lie.

“Yeah. Why?”

She stared at him, then sighed and undid the lock and opened the door.

“You were supposed to look after the cats, Colt,” she said.

“I know, Hetty.” He lifted anguished eyes. “I did, but… Are they okay?”

“First, are you okay?” She kept her voice down, hoping Em hadn’t heard him arrive.

He looked away. “Yes, Hetty, I’m fine.”

“Really. Yet you couldn’t answer a text to let me know? You couldn’t come by and spend fifteen minutes cleaning litter boxes and filling water dishes? I thought you were hurt, Colt.”

His face hardened. He looked down. “Something came up.”

“What was more important than honoring your commitment to me?”

He met her gaze, his eyes as flat and unflinching as hers. “I can’t tell you.”

That’s when Emmet came up behind her and Heather knew the conflict was about to escalate. Em had been afraid for the cats, afraid for Colt, afraid they were losing Colt. She’d spent too much of her life afraid and now, on the cusp of adulthood, she was learning that anger put a barricade between herself and that fear. Anger made her feel stronger.

“Oh, look, it’s the pet sitter,” Em said. “Great job, by the way. The cats survived, in case you were wondering. Want me to write a Yelp review?”

“I’m sorry, okay? I…I…”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.

“You know what we found when we got home last night?” Em continued, her voice like acid. “After you supposedly gave them all your tender loving care, we found overflowing litter boxes. Empty food dishes. Water dishes with nothing in them, not even scum. You were damn well not here on Friday, Colt, because they were so thirsty they knocked a glass of water off the counter and drank it. There was glass everywhere. Jasper got a piece of glass stuck in his paw, then cut his mouth trying to get it out. We spent three hours at the vet last night.”

“Em.” Heather touched her elbow but the girl moved away and crossed her arms over her chest.

She couldn’t blame Em. Everything she said was true. Leaving house cats alone for a few days might not seem like a big deal to some people, but Jasper was Em’s last link to her mother. Em and Colt had both helped raise Bruiser and Rosie from their throwaway kittenhood. Colt loved these animals. He loved Heather and Em. Or at least he had. They’d trusted him and he’d betrayed that trust.

“Colt, I know you wouldn’t do something like this without a good reason.” Heather looked at him questioningly and it occurred to her that maybe he’d changed more than she wanted to admit. Not every kid could be saved. Not every kid could take the bad cards they’d been dealt and turn them into a winning hand.

A muscle in Colt’s jaw flickered. “Listen, I’m sorry about the glass. Is Jasper okay?”

Em glowered at him. “Yes, no thanks to you. What’s the matter with you? You know better than this!”

“Look, Em,” he began.

“Don’t ‘Em’ me,” she snapped. “You were busy, weren’t you? Busy getting busy, maybe? With Tammy, I’m guessing? She doesn’t have time for me anymore, but since she’s your girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said stiffly.

“Right. Then what, Colt?” Em demanded. “What else could possibly be more important than keeping your promise to Hetty? You know how much she cares for you.”

“Em,” Heather cautioned.

“No!” Em whirled on her. “You’re always so gentle with him. He needs to know that he screwed up and that he can’t get away with it. Just because he’s got a charming smile, he gets away with murder and it’s not right. You were there for him every single time his mother couldn’t look after him, every time child protective services called to say he was in the house alone, what did you say? I’ll go get him. That’s what you said. And even when he didn’t want to come, you made him. You cooked his favorite food, you put clean sheets on the spare bed, you made him feel at home. And honestly, Hetty, it’s Bruiser and Rosie. Colt, you love those cats! How could you?”

“Listen, Em, I’m sorry, okay? I really am.” He had a desperate look in his eye that Heather didn’t like. “I can’t tell you any more. If I could have been here, I would have. You have to believe me.”

He stopped short and looked away. Witnessing Em’s anger had dissipated some of Heather’s, allowing her to see what she’d been unable to see before: Colt wore the look of a boy trapped. Something had happened while they’d been gone. Was he selling drugs? Involved in gang activity? Something worse? Whatever it had been was bad and he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her about it.

“Colt, honey,” she said, drawing him into the house. “Tell me this: are you in trouble?”

He looked down and shook his head.

“Are you safe?”

Instead of answering, he said, “Send me the vet bill. I’ll pay it. Give the cats a hug for me. I gotta go.”

And he was almost jogging back to his car. He revved it hard and squealed out of the driveway so fast, it made Heather wince.

“How could you let him leave?” Em shouted. “He’s a menace. You should report him.”

“Emmet, my sweet girl,” Heather said, fatigue and disappointment heavy in her throat, “that boy’s got demons you have no idea of.”

“Oh yeah? We’ve all got demons! He takes advantage of you and you let him! I don’t get it. You’re tougher than that. I thought you wouldn’t let another man do that, ever.”

Suddenly, Heather’d had enough.

“Emmet, stop. Just stop, okay? I have a headache. There’s something bad going on with Colt and I know you don’t want to think about that, but we all have crap in our lives and he’s got more than most. If he said he tried to be here and he couldn’t, I believe him. The cats are okay. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal. I know you’re hurt. I know you have feelings for him.”

“Now you stop, Hetty. I don’t have feelings for Colt Boone.”

But Heather had heard that sound before, the sound of a woman declaring something loud and sure, to convince someone else of something she wasn’t convinced of herself.

How many years had she been telling herself that she’d never loved JP Malone, after all? Though she’d never told anyone else about him. Not even Malcolm Black, who knew more about her than anyone in her life these days.

No, Heather had loved JP, and Em loved Colt. Perhaps both of them were still suffering from youthful fantasies, but first love could be potent. Heather’s hadn’t been a mistake, though she’d long ago given up on finding out what had happened to keep him away from her. That something had happened, she’d believe to her dying day.

Whether Em’s love for Colt would be a mistake or not was yet to be seen.