All I Want for Christmas: A Kinnison Legacy Holiday novella (3 page)

Tears stung the back of Rein’s eyes and he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Chapter Two

Liberty awoke to the welcoming scent of coffee and pancakes. She lay a moment in the dusky light of morning and listened to the muted conversation wafting up the stairs from the kitchen. It’d been over a week since Cody had come into their lives with an ease that both delighted and terrified Liberty. An unbridled peal of giggling caused her to grin. Not wanting to be left out, she climbed from bed, slipped on her jeans, some cozy socks, and a roomy sweatshirt, and then headed downstairs. She paused at the kitchen door, listening to the conversation between Rein and Cody. Her heart squeezed as she entered and observed the sight before her.

Cody stood on a small stepstool, his little body wrapped in an apron with strings that wrapped three times around him. Rein, at his side in T-shirt and jeans, was carefully instructing him in the art of cooking pancakes. “You boys are up awfully early this morning.” She was drawn to the coffee pot, helping herself to a steaming mug of motivation.

“Dad’s showing me how to make pancakes.”

Dad?
The reference brought an unexpected flip to her heart, followed by a world of caution. They’d be wise to remember that this was a temporary situation. As much as she wanted to, it wasn’t wise to give her heart so completely to this little boy. Eventually, he’d be leaving. It wouldn’t be fair to any of them.

Rein glanced over his shoulder and caught her staring at them. As if on cue, Cody turned, mirroring Rein’s questioning look.

It was startling to think how quickly it seemed they’d bonded. Already Cody had picked up on some of Rein’s habits. Coupled with the fact they both had blue eyes and bright smiles, it was difficult to remember he wasn’t theirs.

She cleared her throat, mentally scolding herself for imagining the similarities. “So, is breakfast almost ready?” She slid onto one of the stools at the end of the massive kitchen island Rein had designed. They’d both wanted the kitchen to be big enough for family gatherings.

Rein plucked Cody up under the arms and, to a squeal of delight, plopped him on a stool next to Liberty. With a light-hearted demeanor that she’d not seen in weeks, Rein served up three plates of pancakes with bacon on the side.

He put a short cup of milk in front of Cody and, bringing over the carafe, leaned down to give Liberty a kiss before refilling her cup.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said quietly, before kissing her again.

“It appears to be,” she replied, searching his eyes.

“It is now.” He sat on the other side of Cody and proceeded to cut up the child’s pancakes. “I promised Cody we’d take him this week to see Santa. Heard something about him coming in on Thursday at the town square.” He tossed Cody a grin as he slathered the boy’s pancakes with syrup. “Only the real stuff around here, buddy.”

The bond between them had been instant. Liberty wasn’t sure how it was that her husband so readily compartmentalized his emotions when it came to the little boy. She loved seeing Rein having such fun with Cody, but she feared it was going to be difficult for him when it came time for Cody to leave. Perhaps for everyone. She wondered how other foster families managed the emotional risk. “What’s on the agenda for the day, guys?” she asked, eying the two.

“I heard Hank is flying into Billings around noon. Clay is heading down with Julie to pick him up.”

“What about the boys?” Liberty asked. The new manager of Betty’s upcoming bakery enterprise, Julie had recently moved to End of the Line after a dangerously abusive marriage. Now single, it appeared that her newly rekindled relationship with Hank Richardson was getting serious.

“Sally’s got them today. She needs some help going through a couple of closets. She seems to be on a cleaning spree. Chris and Kyle are her manpower.”

Liberty gasped and checked the clock. “Oh, my gosh, I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with her today. She wanted to ask my thoughts on color schemes and décor for the nursery.”

Rein’s attention was focused on Cody. It was as though the little guy had never before eaten pancakes. “Whoa, slow down, buddy. There’s more if you want them.”

Liberty waited a beat. “So I guess you’re taking the day off, then?”

“Huh?” Rein looked up at that. “I can’t. I promised Betty we’d try to get the bakery up and running for her holiday opening.” He glanced at Cody, then back to Liberty. “What’s your afternoon like?” he asked, seemingly aware suddenly that they now had a third person to consider in their daily lives. “I’ll take Cody in with me this morning and he can help me do some measuring. We could meet at the diner for lunch.”

Liberty saw where he was headed. “That could work. The planning committee is meeting after lunch at the diner to plan the Christmas Walk. He could come with me.”

Cody wrinkled his nose.

“I’m pretty sure there might be a candy cane in that for you somewhere, buddy.” Rein patted the young boy's shoulder.

They cleaned the kitchen and Liberty helped Cody dress in the only other outfit that was in his backpack—one she happened to recognize as back-to-school clothing they’d bought and donated for kids who lived at the shelter. Tucking him into his coat and mittens, she waved at the two as Rein buckled Cody into the car. He moved a few tools over from his truck. “See you at noon,” he called with a wave.

She watched from the door as they took off down the lane. She was learning quickly how one child could so quickly change your life. And Sally was about to take on two. With a sigh, she closed the door with her sights on a warm shower.

Later that day, she sat at her committee meeting for the Christmas Walk, helping to make final preparations for one of the most beloved of all events in End of the Line. Seated in the private party room at the diner was Aimee Kinnison, committee chairwoman; Rosie Waters from Rosie’s Antiques; Nan, the owner of Nan’s Sporting Goods; Betty from the café; and Liberty. Sally, very pregnant now with twins, had bowed out of the event planning this year, and Angelique was at home today with Sawyer, who was in the midst of teething.

“He’s adorable,” Aimee said as she looked lovingly at the little boy resting between two chairs they’d pushed together. He was fast asleep, and Liberty had put his coat over him. In truth, Cody looked like an angel with his soft brown hair curling around his face.

They’d chosen the café for its central location, and traditionally the room was quiet. Today, however, their meeting was challenged with the cacophony of drills and hammering from the renovation of the building next door.

“You know,” Rosie said above the din, “we could meet next time at the store. I should have thought of that sooner.”

Betty, who’d only just found a moment to join the group after the lunch crowd cleanup, shook her head. “I appreciate you all meeting here. I don’t like to leave Jerry alone after his stroke. I know it was mild and he’s really doing much better, but that day was… well, horrible, and I guess I like to stick close.”

“Oh, absolutely, honey,” Rosie said. “I understand.” She patted Betty’s arm.

Betty set a plate of fresh cookies in the middle of the table. “Besides, I need you all to taste these. It’s a recipe I found from Bernice, an old neighbor back in Iowa, before we moved out here. They’re called Snickerdoodles—kind of a cross between shortbread and a sugar cookie with a cinnamon sprinkle. They remind me of the holidays.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, and…wait for it.” She held up her finger, garnering everyone’s attention, and the noise on the other side of the wall stopped almost as though on cue. “They always take a break at one-thirty.” She sighed. “Now we have approximately twenty-five minutes to go over things. I figure it keeps us on task, right?” She looked at the ladies.

Aimee grinned and nodded. “Now let’s see….”

At that moment, Cody, who’d been blissfully sleeping through the noise, awoke. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and scanned the circle of women before looking up at Liberty. “Can we go home now?”

She looked down at his sleepy little, cherub-like face. It had been an extraordinary day for the little guy. Trudging off with Rein before eight a.m., then spending time with Betty’s husband Jerry, sitting on a stool and coloring while Rein prepped his workers for the day.

Liberty caught Aimee’s eye at Cody’s reference to going home. Aimee had thought she was pregnant a few months back, but the test turned out to be a false positive. She and Wyatt definitely wanted another child, and if Aimee had her way, she’d get a boy to carry on the Kinnison name.

“In a bit, Cody, we just need to discuss a few things, okay?”

“I have to go potty.”

Liberty met the gazes of the women around her. Thus far, this had been Rein’s job.

“Bathroom is ‘round back through the kitchen. The public restrooms are being expanded.” Betty stood to let Liberty and Cody by. “You need Jerry to help?”

Liberty guided Cody past the chairs and took his hand. “We’re good, thanks,” she said with more bravado than she truly felt. This was brand new territory and while she knew she could probably call on Rein to help, she wanted to…well, to be a mom.

They arrived outside the cubicle of a bathroom and had to wait for one of the construction workers to finish using the facility. Cody danced, holding his miniscule crotch. At one point, Liberty had considered how private the alley outside the back door might be.

Once the room was vacated, she flipped on the light and observed the one stool--far too tall for him to reach alone. She figured her options were to have him sit, or hold him up so he could do his business.

Together they stared at the toilet.

“Miss Ellie has a step-stool.”

Fine. That settled that question. He did know how to pee standing up--this was good. Liberty knelt and undid his little jeans, her fingers feeling clumsy and awkward. Finally, she was able to jostle his jeans down over his training pants—a

marvelous gift that Ellie had tucked in his backpack, and something they would soon need to restock. “Yeah, well, I’m going to have to be your step-stool today.” She flipped open the lid and turned him toward the toilet. “Just hang on, buddy. I’m going to lift you up… like this.” She grabbed him beneath the arms, planting her feet firmly for balance. Liberty waited, trying to be considerate to the fact that he might not be as comfortable with her as with his mother, or with Ellie or even Rein. “Okay, you can go ahead… anytime, Cody. Just aim and you know… fire away.”

His little legs dangled above the stool, his jeans circled like a dead weight around the real cowboy boots Rein had bought him—heavy little cowboy boots, at that.

“I don’t think I can. I’m too high.”

“Fair enough.” Liberty lowered the boy to a height that wasn’t quite so high as when Simba lifted his son to the herd in The Lion King. “Better?”

“I want the stool.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, her shoulders beginning to cramp. “But right now, we don’t have much choice.” It dawned on her that maybe he’d be okay with sitting, which sounded good in theory, but could open up another set of challenges. “Do you want to sit, instead?” She began to lower him.

“No!” he screamed, wiggling his little body to make his point.

She nearly lost her grip, which was where her mental state was quickly headed. “Okay, okay.” Sure of how to handle most things in her life—good God, she’d survived a fire, and a paid assassin—her brain scrambled to find a solution. “Listen, Cody. You do know how to pee like a big boy, right?”

He nodded. “Dad… Mr. Mackenzie showed me.”

“Yay, that’s great.” So the child wasn’t exactly an old hand at this. “Okay, then, all you have to do is… like what Mr. Mackenzie showed you.”

“He had a step-stool, too.”

There was a step-stool in the bathroom? Where had that come from? “Okay, then. So, let’s pretend you have the step-stool.”

“He said I could call him dad.”

The muscles in her arms burned. Her days of daily exercise as an exotic dancer in Vegas seemed like a million years ago. “Can you please just try to go, Cody?” She tried not to sound too desperate.

“I’ll try.” He bent his head as though lining up his target.

There was a knock on the door before it opened and Rein stepped in. “Betty said you guys might need--”

Startled, Liberty turned to look at him, too late to realize that Cody—ready to fire--was poised as a human water pistol. A steady stream arched with fair distance for a four-year-old across the tiny bathroom, leaving a trail across Rein’s work boots.

Rein followed both her and Cody’s stupefied gazes to where a dark line appeared with near precision across the toes of his chamois-colored boots.

“I did it!” Cody held his arms high in victory. Liberty, nearly losing her grasp, had to grab him around the middle.

She needed a drink.

“I peed like you showed me.” Cody’s voice was laced with utter glee.

Liberty, glad the ordeal was over, repositioned the boy’s pants and lifted him to the sink to wash his hands.

Rein had taken a wad of paper towels to clean up the tiny trail Cody had left behind.

“Sorry, guess I’m new to this part,” Liberty said to Rein’s reflection in the mirror.

He grinned and kissed the top of her head, then Cody’s. “We’ll do a little target practice at home, okay, buddy? My mom used to float Cheerios in the toilet so we could practice.”