All I Want for Christmas: A Kinnison Legacy Holiday novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

step-stool in the bathroom? Where had that come from? “Okay, then. So, let’s pretend you have the step-stool.”
    “He said I could call him dad.”
    The muscles in her arms burned. Her days of daily exercise as an exotic dancer in Vegas seemed like a million years ago. “Can you please just try to go, Cody?” She tried not to sound too desperate.
    “I’ll try.” He bent his head as though lining up his target.
    There was a knock on the door before it opened and Rein stepped in. “Betty said you guys might need--”
    Startled, Liberty turned to look at him, too late to realize that Cody—ready to fire--was poised as a human water pistol. A steady stream arched with fair distance for a four-year-old across the tiny bathroom, leaving a trail across Rein’s work boots.
    Rein followed both her and Cody’s stupefied gazes to where a dark line appeared with near precision across the toes of his chamois-colored boots.
    “I did it!” Cody held his arms high in victory. Liberty, nearly losing her grasp, had to grab him around the middle.
    She needed a drink.
    “I peed like you showed me.” Cody’s voice was laced with utter glee.
    Liberty, glad the ordeal was over, repositioned the boy’s pants and lifted him to the sink to wash his hands.
    Rein had taken a wad of paper towels to clean up the tiny trail Cody had left behind.
    “Sorry, guess I’m new to this part,” Liberty said to Rein’s reflection in the mirror.
    He grinned and kissed the top of her head, then Cody’s. “We’ll do a little target practice at home, okay, buddy? My mom used to float Cheerios in the toilet so we could practice.”
    Liberty caught his sexy grin.
    “You girls didn’t know what you were missing.”
    The three exited the bathroom together, Cody more than pleased with himself. Rein, at ease, kissed her on the temple and went on his merry way, and she felt as though she’d been spun through a rinse cycle. By the time they rejoined the planning meeting, they were nearly through the agenda.
    Aimee, the consummate teacher, scanned her list. “Okay, now is Re--” she stopped suddenly, realizing her near faux pas. “Reindeers… I mean is Santa” --she emphasized the name-- “planning to bring his reindeer to the park this year?”
    Liberty cleared her throat to hide her smile. “We did hear that he plans to be here. Not sure yet on the reindeer, or if he’ll be borrowing horses instead for the parade. You know how nervous reindeer can be around crowds.”
    Cody, nursing a cookie that Betty had given him, looked in wide-eyed wonder at the women as though amazed that they seemed to know the jolly old guy on a personal level.
    Betty judiciously changed the topic. “And hopefully we’ll have the bakery up and running to the point where we can serve my special holiday cupcakes to parade goers this year.” The End of the Line lighted holiday parade had in recent years drawn folks not only from the surrounding smaller towns, but also folks from the city looking for that small-town holiday experience.
    “I like cupcakes.” Cody smiled at Betty.
    She gave him a quick hug. “A boy after my own heart. It’s been way too long since this town had a proper bakery.”
    “Agreed,” Nan said as she smacked her palm to the table. “Those bear claws they have at the Git and Go are the most pathetic excuse for a Godda--”
    “Nan,” Betty warned with a tip of her head toward Cody.
    “Gosh darn pastry,” Nan finished instead. “We need to be able to buy fresh products without all those chemicals and preservatives in ‘em.”
    Nan, who’d started the local sporting goods store with her taxidermist husband the better part of thirty years ago, now ran the uniquely decorated store alone. She was a hard woman, self-sufficient. Few filters. Not used to kids. Never had them. Never wanted them. Still, it fascinated Liberty that Nan was the greatest advocate of the holiday events in End of the Line. It had been rumored that, at one time in