“He’s out cold,” Kit said, nudging the unconscious man with his boot. “You pack one hell of a punch, dude.”
“What happened?” Wilder asked.
“He had emptied the milk and filled it with gasoline, stuffed a sock in just like you said. We surprised him when he was sneaking over to the generator box.”
“Son of a bitch,” Wilder spat.
“An S.O.B. that’s going to wake up to a world of hurt and a shitload of trouble,” Sawyer said, hauling Lenny to his feet.
“Thank you,” Quinn said, rubbing Wilder’s arm. “Didn’t I once tell you that every blue moon someone deserves a hard knock in the nose?”
“Yeah, you did, Trouble.” Wilder planted a kiss square on her forehead. “You’re safe now, and I’ll keep you safe forever.”
“You two get a room,” Kit said as Sawyer began hauling Lenny away. The shorter man moaned insensibly.
“Nah, I’m taking her to watch the Christmas tree lighting,” Wilder shot back. “That is, if you’re in the holiday spirit.”
“You know what?” Quinn gave him a long look. “We have a lot to celebrate. Why not?”
It took another hour for the square to fill and the sun to drop behind Mount Oh-Be-Joyful. The sky turned as red as a poinsettia while the Brightwater Children’s Choir sang “Little Drummer Boy.”
Quinn glanced at Wilder to share the moment but he was staring over her shoulder. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go this way.”
It was crowded with residents bursting with festive holiday cheer. Red Rudolph noses, antlers, and Santa hats abounded. Quinn gave a soft inward sigh. Maybe Wilder wasn’t quite ready to say a complete goodbye to the hermit life he’d inhabited for so long.
Disappointment tugged at her while they walked but at the same time, she couldn’t expect him to change who he was. She had to love him with eyes wide-open.
He pulled up short. “Close your eyes.”
She cocked her head. “What is going on?”
“Please?” He fidgeted. “It’s a surprise.”
“I never thought I’d say it but I might be a little surprised out.”
“You’ll like this one,” he murmured.
“Okay.” She closed her eyes and waited.
The mayor finished giving his speech and the crowd began to count down, “Nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . .”
Wilder kissed her, soft, gentle, and with a sweetness that made her rise up on her tiptoes as he slowly withdrew.
The people around them began to clap as the holiday lights turned on, illuminating the big tree. A woman shouted, “Atta girl.” Quinn grinned at Natalie’s voice.
“What was that for?” she asked dreamily as the choir broke into “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”
“Thought it was obvious. For having the most kissable lips in the town.” He gave her chin a playful chuck. “And look up.”
Overhead was a sprig of mistletoe dangling from a red velvet ribbon.
She grinned. “Something tells me this holiday is going to be extra holly jolly.”
Epilogue
IT HAD BEEN a long, hard winter but Wilder barely noticed. Quinn had moved in and over the months his heart swelled alongside her growing belly. June arrived in all its sunny glory and he’d taken the day off work as the fire investigator for the Eastern Sierras to attend something that a year ago would have sent him running in the opposite direction.
A baby shower.
What a difference three hundred and sixty-five measly days made. Quinn sat in a lawn chair behind the cottage holding a green hand-knit baby blanket.
“This is absolutely adorable,” she said.
“I had to pick green since you won’t find out if it’s a boy or a girl.” Grandma tried to grumble but it was hard to do when a huge smile tugged the corners of her mouth. He and Quinn married on Valentine’s Day, a simple wedding at city hall. Her dad, had given a soft, wistful smile at the sight of her white dress, as if grasping the magnitude of the day. Mom had sent a dozen pink roses and a tersely worded card chastising her for not having a blowout celebration, but with Sawyer and Annie, Archer and Edie, Kit, Margot, Grandma, and Atticus in attendance, everything felt complete. It felt like a family and they wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Archer and Edie were getting married in a few weeks and everyone was buzzing because Archer had picked Kit to be his best man and Edie had asked Goldie Flint, who was back from her travels, to be her maid of honor. Her cousin, Quincy Bankcroft, was allowing his home, The Dales, a historic mansion and the biggest home in the county, to be the reception site.
Bets were being exchanged at Haute Coffee and The Dirty Shame Saloon as to how long into the ceremony it would take before Kit and Goldie were dueling with pistols. The current average estimate was eight minutes and twenty-six seconds.
“Everyone! Everyone! Guys! Come quick, you have to see this.” Atticus tore from the forest edge, Sawyer and Archer tagging after him. Wilder had foregone their trip down to the falls in favor of games like “How Fast Can the Plastic Baby in the Ice Cube Melt?” “Guess the Baby Food,” and the homemade “Pin the Sperm on the Egg” that Grandma brought.
That was the only one that sent Wilder into the house for a beer.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Annie asked, jumping to her feet. She was going to be Edie’s matron of honor, and Quinn had been leaning on her as a big sister, gleaning everything from labor tips to must-have baby gear.
“It’s so cool.” Atticus took a puff from his inhaler. “The mystery is back.”
“Mystery?” Annie glanced to Sawyer with a quizzical expression.
“Sorry to break in on all your fun, ladies, oh, and gent.” Archer tipped his hat at Wilder. “But this is well worth a gander.”
“Gander?” Edie said, lacing her fingers with his. “Have you turned old-timer on us?”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Grandma said, hobbling forward.
“Right this way.” Wilder offered Quinn his arm.
The baby shower party walked through the forest. The sound of the falls grew louder and louder. Upstream, not far from Wilder’s hot spring, were three perfect circles of wildflowers.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Grandma said.
“Fairy rings!” Annie clapped her hands. “Just like in the old tale. I’ll have to do a story on it for the Bugle.”
Wilder frowned, puzzling over the sight. This is where he’d left the cracked corn out. Perhaps the very same night that Sea Monkey started growing inside her.
The supplemental food attracted the deer and their trampling had created circles in the snow. Now that the late-spring wildflowers were coming into bloom, they were growing thicker in the places that had been so friendly to them all winter.
He glanced at Quinn. “The deer?” she murmured, putting two and two together.
Everyone wandered, exclaiming, trying to guess how it happened.
“Looks like whoever the hermit of Castle Falls was, he also had a good heart,” Quinn said, bending down and picking a pale purple blossom. “And your mom was right all those years ago.”
“How’s that?” he asked.
“No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted,” she said, tucking the flower into his buttonhole.
He put his arm around her shoulders and rested his head against her. The flowers waved in the light breeze and all around them good things were taking root.
Can’t wait for more of Lia Riley’s Brightwater series?
Keep reading for an excerpt from the hilarious second book in the series,
RIGHT WRONG GUY
Sometimes two wrongs can make a right. . .
BAD BOY WRANGLER, Archer Kane, lives fast and loose. Words like responsibility and commitment send him running in the opposite direction. Until a wild Vegas weekend puts him on a collision course with Eden Bankcroft-Kew, a New York heiress running away from her blackmailing fiancé . . . the morning of her wedding.