Christmas in Coyote County Page 3
Jackson stirred after a moment. “I don’t know what it was that she saw, but we’ll find out. I’ll help you, because there’s no way Maddie Thompson is going to spend Christmas in a nursing home.” He smiled and touched Libby’s hand. “Promise.”
****
“Come on in out of the wind, sweetheart.” Cora Johnson shut the frigid breeze on the other side of the door as Libby took off her jacket and followed her.
The kitchen was warm, and spicy scents filled the air. Sunshine poured through the windows behind the table, giving a lemon glow to the walls.
“I’ve got cinnamon rolls coming out of the oven in ten minutes or so. You just sit down, and I’ll get you some coffee.
“I’ll get it,” Libby offered. “You sit until your rolls are ready.” Cora reminded her so much of her grandmother, from the dress apron to the way she wore her hair in a gray, braided bun. Coming to Cora’s was a little like stepping back in time and visiting with her grandmother again.
“Thank you for the eggs,” Libby said, pouring more coffee.
Cora gave her a sweet smile. “You know I always have plenty. I can coax those girls to lay all year.”
Libby sat down across from her. “I guess you heard about Maddie?”
The older woman nodded and stared into her cup. “I have.” She was silent for a moment. “And you should know that I’ve seen it, too, Libby.”
Libby’s eyes widened, and her heart quickened. “You’ve seen the….what Maddie saw?”
Cora stood and walked to the sink, her eyes staring through the window. “I saw it last week. Like Maddie, I’d gotten out of bed to get a drink. I was just standin’ here, in front of the window, enjoying the view of the stars...and then, there it was.” She pointed. “Out on the road. It turned and looked at me, and all I could see was its big round, green eyes, and two green things sticking off of its head.”
Libby rose and slipped beside her friend, her hand resting on Cora’s arm. “Did it come up any closer?”
Cora turned her eyes to Libby. “No. But I heard it. Or something that has to do with it.”
“A noise?” Maddie hadn’t mentioned any sounds.
The timer sounded, and Cora grabbed her oven mitt. Libby watched her take the rolls from the oven, her mouth watering at the scent.
“We’ll let these cool a minute before I take them out of the pan.” Cora sat and reached for her cup of coffee, a slight tremor in her wrinkled hand.
Libby leaned back in her chair, her mind buzzing with questions. Cora had seen it, too. That meant Maddie definitely wasn’t crazy. Surely her niece would have to cancel those appointments once she heard about this.
Cora turned away, as if she was embarrassed to be talking about the subject. “After I saw it, I went outside.”
Libby raised her eyebrows, not expecting this development. “What did you see?” she asked.
Cora shrugged. “It was gone, but I heard the noise that its...its ship...or something made.”
Libby’s eyes widened. This story was getting more bizarre by the minute.
Cora pointed a finger at her. “Your expression is exactly why I didn’t call the sheriff.”
Libby shook her head. “No, Cora, it’s not what you think. Really, I believe you. I just need to know all the details.”
Cora rose and began sliding the rolls onto a cooling rack. “Well, it was loud,” she said. “The sound it made. A kind of rumbling. Not right out in the yard or pasture, but somewhere close. And I saw some bright lights, over to the west, too.
She put two cinnamon rolls onto a matching pair of flowered plates. “The lights kinda flashed, but the noise kept up. I just didn’t know what to think.”
Placing the plates on the table between them, she folded her hands and looked at Libby, as if expecting some kind of scolding. “So what do you think?” she asked, finally.
Libby shook her head. “I don’t know.” It sounded like a hoax, a prank. But the lights, the sounds...something odd was going on in their little community.
****
Libby put the covered plate of warm cinnamon rolls on her truck seat and drove towards Maddie’s. Cora’s famous rolls guaranteed Maddie would be talking little green men in no time.
“Come right in. I’m kinda lonely today. Paula Felton had to go down to Tulsa on some business.” She glanced at Libby’s hands. “I see you have some of Cora’s baked goods. That woman missed her calling. She could have been a professional baker.”
In the kitchen, Libby put the plate of buns on the table.
Maddie grabbed a cinnamon roll and took a generous bite. “She won’t give me the recipe, no matter how hard I beg.”
Libby carried the coffee pot to the table and filled two cups. “I know. Grandma always wanted it, too. I’ve never asked. I think it would hurt my feelings too much if she refused.” She sat across from Maddie and resisted eating another roll.
Maddie smiled. “She might give it to you. She talks about you a lot.”
“Maybe I’ll ask someday.” Libby laughed.
The elderly woman set her cup in its saucer with a clink. “I guess you’re here to talk about the other night. Did Cora tell you she saw it, too?” Her gaze was level with Libby’s, a square look of defiance.
Libby nodded. “I want you to know that I believe you,” she answered.
Maddie bit her lip. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen it,” she said. “It was last week when I heard all the noise, like Cora did. It was about three o’clock in the morning.”
Libby glued her gaze to Maddie’s face. “Did you go outside when you saw it?”
“I was already there. Scruffy tends to get sort of restless at night. The little brown mixed breed, hearing his name, perked up his ears from his bed beside the warm stove.
“It was in your yard?” Libby’s voice was a whisper.
Maddie shook her head. “Scruffy likes to wander around in the dark, and he took off towards the woods in back. I followed after him and finally caught up with him on that little hill behind the house.” She took another bite from her roll and chewed slowly.
Libby waited, impatient to hear the rest. How many elderly women were out walking in the dark around here, seeing things in the night sky?
“I glimpsed it right after I picked up Scruffy. It was farther back on that trail that runs in the forest. It stopped for a minute, just staring at me with those glowing eyes. Then it turned and walked away, towards the mountain in back. That’s when I heard a roaring noise and some lights came on way back there in the woods.”
Libby leaned across the table. “Did you see anything else?”
“I didn’t hang around.” Maddie laughed nervously. “Scruffy was getting pretty scared, and so was I. I’d left my shotgun inside.” She crumpled her napkin and threw it on the table. “Speaking of my shotgun, did you know that no-good niece of mine had Paula take it to her?”
Libby nodded, lowering her eyes to her coffee cup. “She mentioned it when I came to check on you.”
“I told her if she didn’t bring it back, I’m going to call the sheriff and report it stolen.”
****
Jackson chewed on the end of the pencil, spitting the eraser into the trash. The sheriff’s department investigated all sorts of calls, but UFO reports weren’t common. At least not since the 1970s, according to the records he’d found. And even then, they were mostly UFO sightings in the air, not on the ground.
He sighed and picked up the file that held Maddie Thompson’s account, his eyes lingering over the papers Libby had filled out and signed. He had read so many notes written by that same hand.
He still had them. But they weren’t much good without the girl.
Slamming the folder shut, he tried to imagine Libby as only a part of his past. After all, she wanted no part of his future. He had seen it in her eyes last night, the way she had drawn away whenever he was close to her. He would never be able to make her understand how much it had cost him to leave her behind.
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At least he could spend a little time with her. As friends. They could be that, if nothing more.
The intercom buzzed. “Yeah,” he answered.
“Libby Hawkins is here to see you, Sheriff.”
Great timing. “Send her in.”
The door burst open and in her hurry, she tripped over the stack of books he’d left on the floor. She stopped her fall by grabbing the chair in front of his desk. She stared at the pile scattered around her feet. “What do you think that bookcase is for, Jackson?”
“Sorry about that,” he said, taking her hand to help her steady herself as his foot shoved a path through the volumes. “Sit down.”
“Shut the door, please,” she instructed.
“Sure.” His hand pushed it closed before he dropped into the seat behind his desk.
She drew her chair close and leaned across the desk to him. Her voice was tense, excited. “I talked to Cora Johnson. She’s seen it, too!”
His eyebrows shot up. “The...alien?”
Libby grabbed his arm, sending a bolt of electricity up to his shoulder. “Exactly. And what’s more, they both saw lights and heard a loud noise.”
With his free arm, he flipped open the file, hoping her warm touch would stay against his skin if he moved as little as possible. “She didn’t mention that in this report.”
“That’s because she heard the noise and saw the lights last week! Right about the same time that Cora did. Both times it was after two a.m.”
Her hand moved, and the spell was broken. He shook his head, confusion clouding his mind–whether from her touch or the crazy story, was hard to know. It was getting difficult to keep all of this straight. There weren’t any aliens. That much he was sure about.
“OK,” he said. “But I don’t have a report from the Johnsons about this incident, so I can’t exactly investigate it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, of course you don’t. Cora knew people would believe her about like they do Maddie.” She paused. “I’ve got a plan. If it works, I’ll tell you what I find out. Then maybe you can look into it a little more, OK?”
His eyes narrowed. “What kind of plan?”
She sat back in her chair and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m going to stay up for a few nights and keep watch. See if I see or hear anything. Especially the lights and noise.”
He shot her a sardonic smile. “You don’t want to see the alien? Maybe you should camp out in the woods with a welcome package for him.”
She made a face. “Make fun, if you want. Those ladies saw and heard something.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek before answering. “Well, just open a window or something if you hear noises. There’s no need to go outside and get hurt if—well, if this is a prank gone wrong or something. You live right between Cora and Maddie, so you ought to be in a good spot.”
For cellular reception, he wanted to add. So you can call me the moment you hear even a twig snap near your house.
She frowned. “I’m not going to stay inside.” Pushing her chair back, she stood. “I’m not a stupid kid. I can take care of myself.”
Where did that come from? She was as stubborn as ever. “Hey, I didn’t call you stupid. I just don’t want to have to worry about you, is all.” He rose and moved around his desk, mere inches separating them as he faced her.
“Worry about me?” Skepticism flooded her dark brown eyes.
Jackson winced inwardly. She probably thought he was about a dozen years too late for that.
“I’m not asking you to worry about me. I’m trying to help, since you don’t seem to be too concerned about this case.”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Libby,” he answered, lowering his voice.
“I doubt anyone can tell you how to do anything,” she snapped, opening the door to his office. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Don’t slam the doo—”
He winced at the sound of wood splintering as the door hit the frame, bouncing the old farm insurance calendar on the back. For a woman who resented personal rumors, she’d just fed the fire that everyone was already stoking.
****
Libby made a quick drive through the Dairy Queen and bought a large chocolate-peppermint shake. The real thing—no diet drinks for this mood. The cool liquid was soothing to her dry mouth and throat, calming her frazzled disposition and the hot temper that had fueled many a fight between the two of them in the past.
She would have to apologize to Jackson. Accusing him of not doing his job? It wasn’t true. He was probably the best sheriff this county had ever had. I’ve always had a big mouth, Lord. Forgive me for not doing better at controlling it. I know I have to stop letting the past influence how I feel right now. I really will apologize to him. I just hope he forgives me.
At home, she glanced at the phone’s answering machine, half-hoping she’d heard from him, but no lights blinked. No messages on her cell phone, either.
How humiliated would he feel leaving the office later? She cringed, imagining the whispers of the office staff. She could phone him now, but apologies always meant more in person. Tomorrow she would go ask his forgiveness for her words and her attitude.
Past or no past, his friendship was one she didn’t want to lose again.
****
By eleven o’clock, Libby was wide awake from a restless few hours’ sleep. Her spiteful words to Jackson kept floating through her dreams, waking her only to send her drifting off to another. In one, he had forgiven her. In another, he had told her he didn’t ever want to see her again. But in that last dream, it was a confrontation from their youthful past.
It was the first time in months that she’d woken up crying.
After washing her face, she pulled on a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt over her thermals. It was going to be in the twenties out there, according to the radio. Digging through her dresser, she found a pair of wool gloves.
In the kitchen, her grandmother’s old picnic basket waited on the counter. She slid a thermos of freshly-made coffee inside, along with some sandwiches.
“That’s about it, Zoe,” she whispered to the fluffy creature winding around her ankles. “How about a tuna treat before I go?”
Outside, Libby checked the lock and her pockets for her keys before turning to descend to the yard below. Instead of finding the steps, she crashed into a tall figure, indistinguishable in the dark. Fingers closed around her arm. With a scream, she struck out with her heavy flashlight.
“Hey, it’s me, Libby.”
“Jackson? You almost scared me to death!” Her heart raced faster than the last time he’d held her.
“I meant to come to the front door, but you turned out the lights as I drove up, so I just came around here.” His voice adopted a scolding tone. “Shouldn’t you have a dog? You would at least know when someone comes up.”
She switched on the flashlight and shone it in his face, taking too much satisfaction in his grimacing squint. “I’m planning on getting one sometime. And you could have spoken up sooner, you know.” Her bad attitude was already resurrecting. It didn’t do much good to confess her sins if she intended to keep committing them.
He pushed the light away from his face. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Especially about this afternoon. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
His tone melted her anger like snow on a hot stove. “It was all my fault,” she answered. “I just got carried away and didn’t think before I spoke. I didn’t mean it, Jackson. Any of it.” She held out her hand. “Friends?”
He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Yeah. Sure.”
She laughed. “You don’t sound too sure. And by the way, what exactly are you doing here?” As if she didn’t know.
He scratched his head, avoiding her eyes with a side glance, even in the dim light of her flashlight. “I just got to thinking about your plan and decided it might be worth trying.” His tone was nonchalant. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go down the roa
d and sit.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snorted. “You might as well come with me. I thought the barn loft might be a good place to watch. It has a perfect view of Maddie’s house.”
****
Libby blinked at the sheer darkness when Jackson pointed the flashlight away. The two horses snuffled in their hay and nickered quietly as two pairs of work boots scuffed against the hard dirt floor. “It’s OK, girls, it’s just me,” she spoke softly, knowing they would recognize her scent in a moment’s time.
Jackson spotlighted the mule. “Is that Scout?”
She reached over and patted the soft nose. “One and the same. She’ll be twenty this spring. I’m going to ride her in the Christmas parade. “
He laughed and came to stand beside her, scratching the side of Scout’s face. “The biggest event of the year around here. I heard Mark Wilder’s wagon club is going to be in it this year.”
Libby nodded. “And the Ladies Quilting Circle has a float, too. They’re raffling off a quilt that Maddie made. They’ll draw the name at the party afterwards.”
Scout pushed on Jackson’s hand, demanding attention. “Your grandpa sure did love this mule.”
“I know. He was always trying to convince me to give up barrel racing and hang around the farm and ride Scout. It made him nervous to watch me in the arena.” With one last pat on Scout’s nose, she made her way towards the loft ladder.
“He may have worried, but he was always the one cheering the loudest when you were out there.” Jackson drew the basket from her arm. A gentlemanly gesture she’d missed in the past years.
“That seems like a long time ago,” she answered softly.
“Yeah. A lot of things do.”
He climbed up first, and then directed the beam down for her. “Whew, I’m more out of shape than I thought,” he said. “Was the ladder always this tall?”
She grinned, taking hold of the hand he offered as she reached the top.
“You’re probably just tired because it’s your bedtime,” she teased, easing her way past the square bales of hay towards the loft window.
“We’ll be able to see a little better once we’re adjusted to this light.” He crouched beside her, staring out into the darkness.