3. Finley

3

FINLEY

" D o you not like any of my ideas?" I asked Soren. From the sour look on his face, I think I knew the answer already.

"They're all solid ideas. It's just the logistics. Can we pull this off in such a short amount of time? It seems impossible."

"Are you regretting being roped into helping me?" I asked, teasing. His reaction had stung despite my vow to carry on no matter what he said.

"This isn't exactly my kind of thing," Soren said. "Rainbows and unicorns and all that."

"Reindeer and Santa, you mean?" She flipped the pages until she found her visual aid of Santa. As if I didn't know what he looked like.

"Right. Santa."

"Regarding pulling this off in a short amount of time—Thad said the committee from the town festival are keen to stay involved. We'll use the volunteers as well our own staff to help move things along. Vendors who want to participate bring their own setup, so we just need to assign spots for them all."

I rattled on with a few more ideas about organizing the festival. He nodded occasionally, so I assumed he was listening and following along. Not that I was sure of anything about Soren Moon. The man was hard to read.

He thought I was a prattling idiot. What a dolt I'd been to think my notebook would impress him. From his expression, I could see that it had not done so. In fact, he was staring at me with even more incredulity than he usually did. Great. I'd scared him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thad entering the patio. He must have spotted us because he made a beeline for our table. "Hey, guys. How's the planning going?"

"Finley's put an entire plan together. Using pictures," Soren said drily. "From Pinterest."

"You know what Pinterest is?" Thad asked his brother.

"Vaguely."

"Do you have time to look at my ideas?" I asked Thad, ignoring Soren's less-than-enthusiastic response. One might even say it bordered on disdain. He thought I was silly and unrealistic. I wish it didn't bother me, but it did. I was only human, after all. At times, staying positive was a lot of work. This was one of those times.

Thad opened the book and turned the pages, nodding and asking questions. By the time we were finished going through everything, Thad had pulled out his laptop from his bag and started making lists and spreadsheets. "I'll get the committee together and show them what we've come up with. They'll be all for it as long as we're hosting and footing the bill."

"The vendors will be glad to have a place to sell their wares, don't you think?" I asked Thad. "Knowing that the one in town is canceled?"

"Most definitely. There are a few members of the committee that have a booth every year. They have a vested interest in keeping the festival alive."

"Which means they'll help us," I said, with a triumphant glance in Soren's direction. He seemed to be paying me no mind whatsoever, staring off toward the barn with a forlorn expression.

"What's your part in all this?" Thad asked Soren.

He shrugged. "Whatever Finley asks of me. She's the visionary here."

I smiled, surprised and pleased by his words. It was the only nice thing he'd ever said to me. Progress? I certainly hoped so.

Over the next week, I worked long hours getting everything organized for the festival. We'd decided we would do the tree-lighting and traditional festival as it had always been done, the weekend after Thanksgiving.

As far as my partner went, Soren was true to his word. He assisted me with whatever I wanted from him and had actually been far less grumpy than I thought he'd be. Still, I could see something troubled him. Behind his stoic demeanor, I sensed sadness. What did he have to be sad about? I wondered, rather uncharitably. Of all people, I understood better than anyone that our outside personas didn't necessarily reflect our struggles and insecurities.

One evening in early October, I gave instructions to the night clerk and then headed across the grass toward the lot where my car was parked. Soren was leaning against the fence near the horse pasture, his face obscured by the brim of his cowboy hat. The autumnal light blazed orange as the sun set, washing over his lean, tall form. For some reason, I decided to head over and say hello instead of going straight to my car.

"Hello there. You okay?" I asked.

He turned slowly, blinking as if he'd been lost in deep thought. "Hey, Finley. Headed home?"

He hadn't answered my question, but I didn't point it out. "Yeah. Long day."

"How's it going out there at Mrs. Galloway's?"

Mrs. Galloway was an elderly widow from whom I rented a room in her shabby, decaying farmhouse. Her adult children lived elsewhere, thus she had a lot of empty rooms. "It's fine. She's a sweet lady. Why do you ask?"

"Thad mentioned you were hoping to move into a place of your own."

"I'd love to, but it's not in the budget," I said. "I'm putting away some of my paycheck every month, hoping to save up for a down payment to buy something of my own."

"You want to buy a house here?" Soren asked. "As in, staying for an extended period?"

I nodded, an embarrassed flush creeping up my neck. Why did his question make me feel uncomfortable? Like a loser? "I love it here. There's no reason I can think of to live anywhere else."

His eyes narrowed as he appeared to take me in anew, as he so often did. Clearly, to him, I was some kind of anomaly or freak. That was plain as day. In the past, I might have tried to diminish my innate enthusiasm for life, but after what I'd been through, every day of freedom was one to be celebrated. Anyone who wanted to convince me otherwise or ridicule me for it could bugger off. Including Soren Moon.

"Does that surprise you?" I asked.

"I find you to be astounding in more ways than one."

"Oh, okay. Well, sorry about that." I wasn't really, but I didn't know what else to say. Why did his attitude sting?

It took effort on his part to spend time with me. I'd worn him out, most likely, with all my plans for the festival. I should have known better than to spring all my ideas on him at once. One time, after my father had sent me to my room after a rather enthusiastic recounting of something that had happened at school (I can't remember what), my mum had told me I was often a little much for my father to deal with after a long hard day at work. Meaning I needed to be quiet. He'd preferred my muted, often sullen twin to me. That had been my perception, anyway. I still missed my parents fiercely, but over the last few years, facing prison time and the betrayal of my sister had changed my perspective. I'd started remembering incidents from my childhood that I'd brushed aside. The more memories came to me, the more I could see how I went unnoticed while my sister's every mood and whim were not only acknowledged but catered to. What was the saying about the squeaky wheel? Or, in this case, the squeaky twin.

Looking back, I could see that I'd befuddled my father with my bubbly personality. My sister, Danielle, was more intense, like him. Mum had called me a creative and praised my artwork and craft projects. I couldn't recall hearing anything of the sort from dear old Dad.

Danielle had already started acting out during our last year of secondary school. We'd just turned sixteen and were preparing for our GCSE exams. During the evenings when we were supposedly studying at the library, she'd sneaked away to spend time with her boyfriend. She'd sworn me to secrecy. In hindsight, I wish I hadn't kept quiet. If I'd said something to my parents, Danielle might not have gone down such a bad path.

"How do you know how to do all this?" Soren asked, drawing me from my thoughts.

"School, I guess. I've always loved planning events and taking care of people. Hospitality was perfect for me."

I studied for a BTEC Level 3 extended diploma in hospitality at college after my GCSEs. The courses were a mix of practical and theoretical learning, covering everything from customer service and event planning to food and beverage management. For me, the best part was access to work placement, which gave me invaluable hands-on experience at a local boutique hotel. The BTEC was assessed through coursework and practical projects, which suited my learning style better than traditional exams. After completing the courses, I felt well-prepared to start my career in the hospitality industry and eventually aim for management roles. But then, sadly, I'd gone to prison for a crime my sister committed.

Her path after secondary school had been a cautionary tale of drugs, a bad boyfriend, and a general rebellion against the establishment, including our parents. When they'd died in a car accident just after we'd turned eighteen, my sister hadn't spoken to them for over a year. My father's heart had been broken long before a patch of ice took his life.

"You're doing a great job," Soren said gruffly. "You don't need me."

"I know you're busy," I said. "So, I've tried to take most of it on myself."

"Yeah, well, my house is kind of empty these days, so I'm not really very busy."

"I have only my depressing room at Mrs. Galloway's to go to at night, so working is a good excuse to delay my arrival."

"That bad, huh?" Soren asked.

"I mean, Mrs. Galloway's a very sweet lady, but the house is run-down and cold. Even in the summer, it feels damp in there. Isn't that weird?"

"If you wanted to move into the house here on the property, I could rent you a room."

Shocked, I didn't say anything. Surely, I'd misheard him.

"No pressure, obviously," Soren said, perhaps in response to my silence.

"It would be only you and me living there?" I had to think about that for a moment. Living with Grumpy McGrumption without any of the other Moons? I was surprised to feel a twinge of excitement at the idea. Because of the kitchen and the overall loveliness of the house. Not because of him. Definitely not him.

"That's right. You'd have access to the kitchen and any other parts of the house you'd like to use. It would be as much your space as mine."

"I would have figured you liked living alone," I said.

"I'd have figured that too. Turns out we were both wrong." His expression grew wistful. "It's the first time in my life I've lived alone. Growing up in a big family, the quiet at night is weird. Especially since Sammie and Chloe had made it feel like a home again."

My heart softened a little for my grumpy could-be roommate. He was lonely. I understood that only too well, having felt that for most of my adult life.

"How much is the rent?" I asked, suddenly remembering the importance of that information when deciding whether to make such a big move.

He tossed out a number that told me he wasn't renting the room for the money. It was half what I was paying with Mrs. Galloway.

"Can I take a few days to think about it?" I asked.

"Whatever suits you." His expression immediately darkened.

I'd offended him and felt the need to explain my hesitation. "I'd feel bad leaving Mrs. Galloway, even though the house smells of mildew."

"It does?" Soren asked, raising his eyebrows.

"She's had some roof problems and no money to fix it." A twinge of guilt made its way into my gut. "She'll be even worse off without my rent."

"I'll go out there with some of my ranch hands and take a look at her roof."

"You will?" I stared at him, astonished by this generous offer.

"Mrs. Galloway lived here all her life and was a dedicated elementary school teacher until she retired. All of us boys were in her class, and God knows we must have been a challenge. Especially me. Anyway, she deserves better."

Touched, I gaped at him for a moment. "That's kind of you. I'm sure she'd be delighted by the offer."

"I wasn't a great student like my brothers, but she liked me anyway," Soren said. "I wanted to be outside or doing something that required movement or working with my hands. Sitting inside the classroom was torture, especially in the spring."

I smiled, imagining a young Soren wriggling at his desk. "Mrs. Galloway hasn't said much about her past. I get the feeling she doesn't hear much from her kids. Regardless, she's lonely. Reclusive in a weird way." She was always polite toward me but not exactly friendly. I suspected she didn't want to get attached, knowing I would not be there for long. "Maybe I should make more of an attempt to visit with her. And seriously, the house feels like it could fall apart at any moment."

"Well, geez, now I feel terrible. I'll talk to Pop and get a crew together to do some work over there. If you think she'd welcome the help? Some people are too proud."

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I don't know her that well, which makes me feel terrible now that we're talking about it."

"I'll send Mama over there," Soren said. "She has a way of drawing people out."

Stella Moon had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. "If anyone can, it's your mother."

That evening, upon my return to the house, I found Mrs. Galloway sitting in her shabby living room next to the unlit fireplace. With only one lamp turned on, the room felt dingy and cold. She wore a thick sweatshirt with holes in the sleeves, a pair of faded jeans, and her trainers.

A stack of library books was on the table next to her. She lived for the traveling library that brought books to people on isolated ranches or farms. Once a month, the bus came out, practically stuffed with books. Mrs. Galloway returned those she'd already read and picked out another four or five. I'd asked her once if she read all the ones she checked out and she'd said she did. Unless she didn't care for the story. "That rarely happens, though. I love all kinds of books."

She startled when I came into the room, looking up from the book on her lap. "Oh, dear me. You frightened me."

"I'm sorry," I said. "My mother always said I had an uncanny ability to frighten her, even though I wasn't trying to. I'm light-footed."

"Yes, I've noticed that before." Mrs. Galloway wore her white hair cropped short. I'd never seen her put on any makeup or make a fuss over her attire. Tonight was no exception. I sat down in the ratty armchair across from her. "Did you have a good day?"

She tilted her head, eyeing me with curiosity. It wasn't typical that I would come to sit with her in the evenings, preferring to stay in my room and read or watch a show or movie on my laptop. After long days of being hospitable to guests, it was necessary for me to unplug and recharge. I might be outgoing, but I needed alone time too.

"Is there something I can do for you?" Mrs. Galloway asked.

"No. I mean, yes. In a way." I glanced at the empty hearth. Over the last few weeks, I'd noticed her wood pile quickly diminishing. Was that why she hadn't lit a fire? "You know Stella Moon, right?"

"Of course. I taught all her boys back in the day." A hint of a smile fluttered at her lips. "Rascals, every one of them. Why do you ask?"

"I was speaking with Soren today, and he suggested putting together a group of men to take a look at your roof." I glanced upward at a stain on the ceiling from last winter's rain. If we didn't get it fixed before the bad weather began, we'd have buckets all over the room like last year.

"What would they charge?"

"This would be an act of friendship, not commerce," I said, smiling.

"How kind of Soren to think of me. I'd be grateful for whatever help they could provide."

I hoped Soren's offer would soften the blow. Since he'd suggested renting the room at his house, I'd thought of little else. Despite a few misgivings, I would be silly not to take him up on his offer. The rent was cheaper, the house was warm and clean, with a freshly remodeled kitchen and bathrooms. I could understand why it seemed quiet and empty without his brothers, Sammie and Chloe. It was a house meant for a large family. Stella had raised all her boys in that house. I felt her there still, the warmth of her mothering part of the structure itself.

"I'm going to move into the house out at Crescent Moon Ranch," I said softly, feeling terrible. "Soren offered me a room, and it would be so convenient for me to be able to walk to work." Last winter I'd had a few scary incidents with ice and snow. This English girl wasn't used to the dramatic, frigid winters of Montana. I absolutely hated driving in the snow. "I can give you a full month's notice so you have time to find someone to replace me."

Mrs. Galloway nodded, but her face had fallen, making her seem old and fragile.

I was a terrible person.

"I appreciate it," Mrs. Galloway said. "I doubt I'll find someone as wonderful as you."

"I'm really sorry."

"I don't blame you. I'd get out of here if I could too."

"Really? As in, sell and move away?"

"I'd like to move closer to my grandchildren in Seattle, but I won't be able to afford the rent there. Other than that, I have no place to go. My sons don't have room for me, nor do they want me in the way. My pension doesn't stretch far. After my husband died, it's gotten harder and harder for me to live out here alone."

"But what if you sold? Wouldn't that give you a nice nest egg?"

"Getting this old place ready to sell makes me feel unbearably tired," Mrs. Galloway said. "There's so much to do and no money to do it with."

I suddenly had a great idea. We should make the festival a fundraiser for Mrs. Galloway. Part of the ticket sales could go to her. People would love to feel as if they could help this frail woman who had given so much to her community as a teacher.

"Well, don't lose faith," I said. "God sometimes opens doors when we least expect it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mrs. Galloway said, hauling herself out of the worn chair. She placed a hand on the small of her back. "I'm going to put some soup on for supper. Would you like some?"

The last thing this poor woman needed was me gobbling down her food. "No, thank you. I ate a late lunch. Anyway, I have work to do tonight, so I'll go on up to my room."

"Have a good evening." Mrs. Galloway sent me a thin smile and then hobbled out of the room.

I trotted upstairs and changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. The room was small, with only enough space for a dresser and full-size bed. I'd have loved a desk, but I could make do by spreading everything out on the bed.

My mission? To put together my reasoning for helping Mrs. Galloway out by naming her the beneficiary of our festival. Then, I would present it to the Moon brothers. Hopefully, they would agree that it was the right thing to do.