Page 25 of Must Love Mistletoe

He didn’t plan on talking to them together—his father never had cared much for Owen ‘Red’ Evans. Too reckless, he’d said once when Cal had quizzed him on the subject. Too undisciplined, not always truthful, and never paid enough attention to the little things.

“Guess you were right,” he murmured to his father, setting one of the beers down in front of an empty chair.

Thing was, you couldn’t be reckless or careless in this part of the world and get away with it. It would cost you. As Red had finally discovered.

“You could have mentioned Red was dead,” Cal grumbled to his father. “You could have showed me where to find him.” Hell,maybe he had? “You could have showed mesoonerand saved Beth and Sam some rough years.”

Search and rescue had found Red’s truck easily enough, once the weather had cleared, but there’d been no sign of Red. Cal and his brothers and dozens of others had combed every inch of that river for thirty miles in both directions. How thehellhad Red traveled from there up to Hooper’s Crossing on foot? Had someone else been with him? Had he caught a ride?How?

Maybe it wasn’t his dad he should be talking to. Maybe it was Red’s ghost that needed addressing.

“Here’s your beer, you skinny mutt. Because you sure as hell had no meat on you when I found you.” He took a deep pull of his own beer and sat back and took to eating and thinking and choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t a superstitious man in the everyday sense, but All Hallow’s Eve, when the veil between worlds was supposed to be thinnest, deserved at least some consideration.

“It’s good, though, that we got to put you to rest,” he continued, between mouthfuls. “It was hard on people, thewaiting and hoping. The not knowing. Hard for Sam and even harder for Beth to stay strong for him, you know? And she did. She never cracked. Well,” he revised. “Maybe a few hairline fractures the day we found you.”

The coroner would be able to tell them more, eventually, but there’d been no visible signs of foul play or animal attack. Best guess, Red had climbed the tree to get out of the deep snowfall, tried to wrap up and stay warm, and then died of exposure.

“Where were you going? Who were you meeting? A woman? I know you had them. And to lie to Beth and tell her you were going hunting with me? Dick move, man.”

Red hadknownCal was in Deadwood watching TJ ride bulls. Red had lied to Beth, and used Cal’s name for cover, and it hadn’t been the first time. “I came home and got hauled straight into a police interview. Had to hand over my phone to prove my whereabouts. I even had to call on a bunch of pro bull riders and rodeo folk to provide statements as to my whereabouts. You did Beth dirty, and I hate that. You did me dirty, too.”

He took another long pull of beer. He’d be heading for another in no time flat.

“Beth could hardly look me in the eye. Best she could do was nod in the direction of my feet. And Sam…” That grieving, sad little soul. “Every damn day he came at me, asking if I’d gone looking for you, and there was no way I could lookhimin the eye and say no, now could I? Every damn day for a year, in the half-light of dawn or in my lunch break, I went somewhere new. And if I was too busy to take time off during the day, I’d go driving at night. I’d check every drinking hole between here and Big Fork in the hope you had amnesia or was shacked up somewhere being a fool.”

He snorted softly and finished his beer and started picking at the label rather than put it down.

“It took an intervention from Mason to get me to stop.Mason.Makingsenseand looking out for me. He wanted to know why I was still searching for you. Was I trying to clear my name? Because, newsflash, I was already in the clear. Did I have survivor’s guilt because I hadn’t been there to save you? A martyr complex? Both? Was I just too damn stubborn to ever give up? Why couldn’t I juststopand get on withmylife? Good questions, hey.”

They’d made him think.

But Cal’s psyche was far more plainly built than that.

“The reason I kept looking for you long after everyone else had given up was because whether you were a good man or not, Beth and Sam needed you. That was the beginning and the end of it for me, because above all, I’m a very simple man. I was doing it for them.”

He took another deep breath. Time to wrap this up.

“Here’s to closure, man. I miss you, but I don’t miss the not knowing. Sam’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long while, and he’s growing like a weed. Beth’s happier, too, now that we’re buying into the ranch. I’ve got a lot of admiration for her, Red. More than you ever had. She’ll do well in Marietta. Says she’s ready to start over. Can’t begrudge her that.”

So, yeah.

“Good chat.”

“You done yet?” a voice came from the shadow of the steps and startled him silly because he hadn’t heard anyone drive up.

Granted, he was on the deck facing the mountains rather than the track, but still… “Beth?”

“The one and only. Don’t stop. I want to hear more about you looking for my husband every day for a year so as not to disappoint my son.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to hear the sound of me swearing? And then the sound of me heading inside to get more beer?”

“There’s two full beers open on the table,” she said.

“They’re taken.”

“Red and…”

“My father.”

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