Chapter Twenty
Twenty
“L ooks like the North Pole threw up in here—in the best way,” Willow muttered to herself late into the afternoon, a chuckle escaping her as she pictured the bustling Christmas market that would soon fill the bar tomorrow. From corner to corner, decorations were everywhere in the bar and Charly was finishing putting the ornaments on the Christmas tree on the stage.
“It’s perfect,” Aubrey said, glancing around the bar.
“Maybe a bit much,” Charly agreed. “But hey, can you really overdue Christmas?”
“I don’t think so,” Willow said. “Especially considering outside looks even more festive than in here.”
“There is that,” Charly agreed.
Timber Falls went all out for the Christmas market. There were little wooden huts that were already brought in, and town workers were busy setting up Christmas lights, turning Main Street into a little Christmas Village.
A bang outside the window caught Willow’s attention. She glanced through the frosted window, her heart catching in her throat as a familiar person came into view. “They made it,” she gasped, dashing to the door.
The cold nipped at her cheeks as she flung the door open, revealing love personified. “Mom! Dad!” she called.
Her parents’ eyes sparkled.
“Willow, sweetheart!” Her mother’s voice was a soothing melody that always seemed to make the world stand still. An inch shorter than Willow, she had the same hair color as Willow, but cut in a bob, and her bright blue eyes were as sunny and warm as ever. “And wow, look at the place. Christmas has definitely hit Timber Falls.”
“What a lovely town this is,” her father chimed in. He was a few inches taller than Willow and seemed to be aging backward. Fifty looked good on him. His blond hair, streaked with gray only made him more distinguished-looking.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” Willow sank into their arms, letting the familiar scent of home—a blend of her father’s spicy cologne and the soft lavender her mother always wore—fill her senses.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, her words were muffled against their shoulders. “Having you here for our first Christmas in Timber Falls means everything.”
As they pulled back, Willow grabbed her mother’s suitcase. “Let’s head inside,” she suggested. “I might even have your Christmas favorite—spiced whiskey, Dad.”
“Lead the way, darling,” her mother replied, slipping her arm through Willow’s as they crossed the threshold.
Aubrey rushed forward, her smile wide. “Diane. Cliff!” She enveloped Willow’s parents. “It’s so good to see you.”
Charly followed, wrapping them both in her arms when Aubrey backed away. “Did you have a good flight?” she asked.
Her father’s eyes sparkled as he took in the bar, surveying the improvements. “Girls, this place—it’s stunning,” he murmured, running a hand over the smooth surface of the bar.
“Thank you,” Willow said. “It took a lot of elbow grease, but every moment was worth it.”
From the corner of her eye, she caught her mother’s gaze lingering on her. The concern in those familiar eyes was unmistakable, and it tugged at Willow’s heartstrings. She knew that look all too well—the gentle furrow in her brow, the slight tilt of her head—it was the silent language of maternal intuition.
“Mom?” Willow asked, faltering for a second as she met her mother’s searching stare.
“Everything looks so beautiful, Willow,” her mother reassured her, her words floating like a soothing melody. “You girls have really outdone yourselves.”
“Really, you have,” her father agreed, wrapping an arm around Willow’s shoulders. “We’re proud of you—all of you—and of the Empowerment Elves you’ve formed.”
“Yes, so proud,” her mother finished. They wandered past the handmade crafts that the group had managed to remake. It wasn’t as much, not even by half, but it was something. “Are these all the crafts you’ll sell?”
Willow nodded. “But it was more about the group that made all this so special.”
Her parents exchanged a glance, their shared pride radiating.
“Darling, you’ve always had such a big heart,” her mother said, reaching out to cup Willow’s cheek tenderly. “And you’ve poured it all into this Christmas group. It’s so wonderful.”
“Nothing could make us happier than seeing you follow your dreams, especially after all you’ve endured,” her father added, his voice steady and reassuring.
“Thank you,” Willow whispered, allowing herself to lean into their love for a moment longer before she straightened her spine. “Come on, let me show you the rest of the bar.”
Her parents followed, and Willow saw the way Charly and Aubrey were gushing over her parent’s pride too.
By the time the tour was nearing its end, the Christmas music playing through the bar’s speakers had her mother singing along. When they came out of the back into the bar, Willow spotted a most welcomed guest.
“Betty!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Couldn’t stay away, could I?” Betty replied, her eyes crinkling with genuine affection as they embraced.
“Mom, Dad, this is Betty, who I’ve told you all about,” Willow introduced. “She’s been...well, she’s been like my grandma away from home.”
Her mother’s gaze softened, “Betty, we’ve heard so much about you,” she said, stepping forward. She offered Betty a warm embrace. “Thank you for being there for Willow when we couldn’t be. Your kindness means the world to us.”
“Only doing what any friend would do,” Betty responded. “I cherish having Willow in my life.”
“We’re glad for it,” her father said with a genuine smile. “It’s much easier for us, with having Willow so far away, that she’s here surrounded by wonderful people.”
Betty smiled softly, glancing at Willow. “I’m quite certain we are the lucky ones.”
Willow felt her heart grow three sizes. Her family was here. Her friends were here. But there was someone missing...and with each hour that had gone by, the more her mind cleared, and the more she missed him.
“Let me grab us some drinks,” Willow said, hurrying behind the bar to pour some of her father’s favorite spiced whiskey.
As Willow grabbed the whiskey bottle, her mother joined her at the bar. She leaned across the weathered wood of the counter, her eyes locking onto Willow’s with intensity.
“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice low and laced with concern, “is everything all right?”
Willow hesitated, the weight of unspoken thoughts suddenly heavy on her chest. The festive atmosphere around her faded into the background as she met her mother’s gaze. “I’m okay,” she said with a smile.
“Is it the market?” her mother prodded gently, reaching out to cover Willow’s hand with her own.
“Partly,” Willow admitted. “I’ll tell you about it later, but there’s a guy...”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “A guy?”
“A really, really good guy,” Willow said. “He’s a very close friend of Charly’s boyfriend, Jaxon.”
“Ah,” her mother breathed, nodding as if everything made sense now. “I should have known that look on your face had something to do with love.”
“Love?” Willow gasped, shaking her head. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Hmm,” was her mother’s reply.
“What does hmm mean?” Willow asked, beginning to pour the drinks.
Her mother gave her a stern look, took one of the half-full glasses and angled it toward Willow. “Sweetie, you know what hmm means. It means what it always has.”
“That you don’t believe me?” Willow offered.
With a knowing grin, her mother clanged her glass against the one Willow was holding and stated, “No, sweetheart, I don’t.”
Truth was, even Willow didn’t believe herself.
Betty’s words had stayed on Eli’s mind all day. He knew listening to her was the best thing to do, and the only way for Eli to do that was to face something—someone—he had never wanted to face.
Coldness sank into his bones as he stepped into the stillness of the jail in Red Deer. The corridor stretched before him, dimly lit and narrow, walls closing in with each step he took. There was no turning back now, only forward, into the darkest place he’d gone yet. To stare into the eyes of a killer that shattered his family.
He passed by uniformed officers as he followed the correctional officer leading him toward the room.
And then he saw him —the bastard who had extinguished the brightest light Eli had known growing up—seated on the other side of a glass partition, his posture rigid, yet indifferent. Wearing an orange jumpsuit, Johnny watched Eli’s approach. His eyes were voids, empty of any semblance of human warmth or regret.
“Sit down,” came the gruff instruction from a guard at Eli’s side.
Eli took the seat across from Johnny, who had taken everything from him, the hard plastic chair offering no comfort. He’d met Johnny a dozen times over the years, whenever he’d come home, and he looked the same—dark eyes, scruffy beard, but seemed to have put on more muscle behind bars. Probably to survive, Eli wondered.
He picked up the phone receiver as did Johnny. Eli leaned forward, palm flat against the cool surface of the table. “Look at you,” Eli said, his voice low. “Sitting there like you don’t have a care in the world.”
Johnny tilted his head slightly, a gesture so devoid of empathy. “Did you come here for closure, Eli?” Johnny asked, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His tone was casual, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather, not the shattering loss of a life.
“Satisfaction,” Eli corrected sharply. “I came here for satisfaction.”
“Satisfaction?” Johnny snorted a laugh. “And what does that look like to you?”
“Seeing you sitting in this cage like the animal you are, unable to ever get out,” Eli spat out.
“As if anything I do now changes what happened,” Johnny said. “She’s gone, and she’s never coming back.”
The callousness dripped from his words, thick and venomous. Eli felt the sting, the implication that his sister’s life could be so easily dismissed, her memory reduced to nothingness by this hollow shell of a man.
“Her life mattered,” Eli growled, slamming his hand down. “You took someone precious from this world, from me. You don’t even have the decency to acknowledge that you did something horrific.”
“An apology? Is that what you were looking for when you walked into this place?” Johnny’s eyes, cold and dead, met Eli’s. “You won’t find that here. Regret is a useless emotion, something for the weak.”
“Then you are weaker than any man I’ve ever known,” Eli countered with a cool indifference. “Because it takes strength to feel, to understand the weight of your actions. You’ve got none.”
Johnny simply shrugged.
Eli’s heart pounded, the rhythm syncing with a pulsing desire for retribution. But vengeance wasn’t his to claim—not in the way he wanted. The justice system had seen to that.
“The greatest revenge here is that you are locked away in a cell and this is your pathetic life now,” Eli said, his words deliberate. He’d avoided this meeting, but he knew he couldn’t put that off any longer. His rage only belonged to one person. His anger directed here , and no longer would he direct it at others. “But Miranda is free. Her memory changes lives for the better, gives to others, and her sweet soul is your burden to carry.”
Eli leaned forward, a barrier between him and the man who had shattered his world. His gaze was unwavering, locked on Johnny’s empty eyes. “You’ll rot in here,” he added. “Forgotten. And every second you’re locked up is a moment you can’t hurt anyone else. That’s all the satisfaction I need.”
Johnny’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smirk, but Eli found his heart unclenching with each breath. He’d carried this anger with him for too long. He’d directed it at Buck because he hadn’t said his piece to the one man who deserved it.
He’d never spoken a victim impact statement. His mother had. But this was his moment to share his truth.
After this day, he’d do what Miranda would want him to do. He’d forget this evil, and he’d live in the light.
Eli stood, his chair scraping back. “You think you won because she’s gone. But you forfeited your life. You have no authority, no choices, no control. And that is the ultimate punishment you could receive.” He leaned in, chuckling in Johnny’s face. “Enjoy wasting away in here with your only power being when you take a shit.”
Johnny snarled, the dig hitting the mark.
Eli didn’t look back as he walked away, each step deliberate and sure. The heavy metal doors clanged shut behind him, resonating deep within his bones. Every step he’d take forward would follow Betty’s advice—live for the now. Create the life he wanted, not the one stolen from him.
Live the life Miranda would want for him. The life his mother would hope he’d have.
Stepping out into the night, the cold air embraced him, a sharp contrast to the stifled atmosphere in the jail. Eli wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. As he walked back toward his truck, thoughts of Willow crept into his mind—sweetness, resilience, passion. She, too, had known darkness, yet she emerged not hardened, but more compassionate, her spirit undimmed, seeking to help others. In her, he saw a reflection of what he aspired to be, of what he could be if he let go the rest of what he was holding on to.
Once back in his truck, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and retrieved his phone. His thumb hovered, then pressed with purpose.
“Jaxon,” he said when the call connected, “get Gunner and meet me at my place in an hour.”
Jaxon’s response crackled through the line, “We’ll be there.”
Eli ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket, and hit the road. As the distance closed between himself and his house, he felt the weight of the past beginning to lift. He’d never forget what happened. He couldn’t forget. The trauma was there, always, but he had to walk past it. Because as much as Willow deserved peace, so did he.
Forty-five minutes later, he drove up his snowy driveway, finding Jaxon and Gunner were already waiting for him.
“Hey,” Jaxon greeted him the moment Eli got out of his truck, welcomed by a frigid breeze.
“Thanks for coming,” Eli said, approaching his porch steps.
Gunner asked, “What’s going on?”
“Let’s get inside,” Eli said, trotting up the stairs. “I need a drink.”
They followed him, and he poured them all a glass of whiskey, before heading to the living room.
“I went to visit Johnny,” he stated, met by a stunned silence.
Jaxon and Eli settled onto the worn-out couch, their combined weight causing the cushions to sink. Gunner took a seat across from them. He recounted his trip to the jail, Betty’s intervention the day before, and everything else that had happened. And he also mentioned Clay’s offer for him to become a coach.
A tense silence filled the room as unspoken questions hung in the air and decisions loomed over all of them.
Then Jaxon spoke up. “I know I value your help at the ranch, but teaching kids how to ride bulls is an opportunity you can’t pass up.”
Eli took another sip of whiskey, feeling the burn travel down his throat, and nodded. “It’s definitely an interesting offer, but there’s something I need to do first.”
Gunner tilted his head. “What is it?”
“I have to show Willow that stepping back isn’t the right choice,” Eli explained to his friends. “Instead, we should be stepping closer together.”
Jaxon raised his glass in agreement. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Gunner flashed a wide grin. “What do you need us to do?”
Eli’s smile matched his, feeling like a weight on his mind had been lifted. “Round up all the cowboys and their significant others. We’ve got some serious work to do.”