A Forever Christmas(68)
Shinny and Blanche sat across from her in the lipstick-red booth. The store was closed, and soon they’d go home. But for now they were enjoying catching up.
“He’s one of the Phillips boys from Hell’s Colony,” Blanche said. “Seems to be a good family, if his brother Gage is any indication.”
Shinny was happy to let his wife tell the story, but filling in the details was his forte. His balding head with its white tufts of hair shone under the fluorescent bulb overhead as he leaned back in the booth. “Gage comes out every once in a while. Shaman and he are trying to fix up Dark Diablo. They’re the ones Jonas Callahan hired to bring the place to a working condition.”
“Why’d you go there?” Blanche asked worriedly. “You don’t want to be around Dark Diablo. Nothing good can come of it, even with him there.”
Tempest conceded she wasn’t quite sure what had happened tonight. Seduction wasn’t her style, and she hadn’t had a lover in years. But the man at the ranch had seemed so defenseless, so...sexy. Sexier than any guy she’d ever seen, in some way she couldn’t identify. His coffee-colored
eyes had had a faraway, lonely, almost vulnerable look in them, and for some reason she’d sensed in him a safe harbor. “I wanted to take Cat a present. I thought she and Chelsea would be there. Funny that everything changed in the two months I was gone.”
“Yes,” Blanche said, her tall dark updo quivering under the light. She had enough hair to make up for Shinny’s lack of it. “Gage and Chelsea decided living at Rancho Diablo would be best, to help Cat make the transition to the area. She adores being around all the Callahan children. We went to their wedding, by the way. It was so lovely.” Her friends looked at her. “It’s the kind of thing I hope you’ll have one day.”
“Oh.” Tempest shook her head and stood. “I don’t think so, Blanche. But thank you for always wanting the best for me.” She looked down fondly at the people who’d been like family to her. “May I rent the bed-and-breakfast from you for a few days?”
“No,” Shinny said, standing in turn. “You may stay there free of charge. It’s your home, now that you’re back.”
Tempest gazed out the window for a moment, thinking of her villa in Italy and the job she’d been offered in New York. She hadn’t planned to come out of her self-induced retirement, but something in her had said it was time to go home for a visit.
While Tempest had been living a life few people would ever experience, Shinny and Blanche had this small ice cream and soda shop, and a tiny adobe bungalow they sometimes rented as a B and B. They worked like crazy for the little they had.
They were getting older, and Tempest felt they should be slowing down. Most folks their age would be thinking about retiring. Of course, her dear friends didn’t burn out from their careers, as she had.
But they were so happy to see her that just looking at their faces revived her. Made her remember that changing from the dull moth Zola Cupertino to the butterfly Tempest Thornbury was something that mattered to people who were important to her. And somehow that pride invigorated her, made her want to swim in starshine again instead of burying herself at her villa. “Either you let me pay or I’ll have to find someplace else to stay.”
Blanche shooed her to the door, after handing her a key. “We’ll talk about money another time. Until then, you go rest. And if I were you, I’d stay away from Dark Diablo.” She looked at Tempest in concern. “There’s no reason to dig up bad memories by going out there.”
Tempest hugged Blanche. “It’s all right. Don’t worry about me.”
“We do.” Shinny wrapped the two of them in his big, beefy arms.
Tempest closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the closeness. “I’m fine,” she said. “Truly. Thank you for letting me stay with you.” She went out the door, seeing that the moon hadn’t changed a bit since she’d left the cowboy soldier. Only in Tempest does time never seem to move.
She got into her rental car and drove around back, parking it in the garage of the only place that had ever seemed like “home” to her, a small southwestern, Pueblo-style adobe house that was clean and spare. It felt wonderful to unpack her bag, take a quick shower and melt into the soft bed.
Recalling the hungry way Shaman had kissed her warmed Tempest, settling her into a hazy place between wakefulness and slumber. Shinny and Blanche thought he was a solid man, a good man, if a loner. Tempest herself was a recluse, had been for years. Maybe that’s what she’d responded to—the sense of isolation people sometimes chose when they didn’t feel they deserved better.