A Note to the reader: This story is not meant to be part of the "canon" of the books, but closer in line with the show…in other words, the dates are closer to the television characters and not the books…just read and enjoy…

Title: The Ghosts of Christmas Pot-Lucks Past

"…I do miss our Christmas pot-lucks…"

Wanted Man, Season 3, Episode 5

Christmas Eve, 1994

Sheriff Lucian Connally glanced out the window of his office in the old Carnegie Library building, watching the snow beginning to blanket the street outside. It had been snowing off and on all day, but only half-heartedly. There were clouds massing out beyond the Bighorns, which meant that a monster storm would soon strike; however, he thought that the worst of it would hold off until after the holiday.

Not that he was in much of a holiday spirit. I never have liked the holidays much…It was just that it would be a quieter couple of days if people weren't stuck inside by a storm, getting on each other's nerves. Domestic disturbance calls always rose in bad weather…and holidays…

Right now, there was just enough snow out there to make Durant look like some god-awful, sentimental Christmas card. He checked his watch…4:45. The streetlights of the main street outside – all three blocks of it – were already flickering on in the murky late afternoon. Close enough for government work…He pulled on his weathered Stetson and grabbed his coat.

The large office bay outside was nearly empty. Ruby, his receptionist/dispatcher, had scooted out at noon to spend the holidays with her husband, kids and new grand-daughter. The deputies who worked over the holidays rotated on seniority, which meant that the newest hire worked the worst shifts.

He leaned against the doorframe and watched Deputy Walt Longmire. His deputy was sitting at the desk nearest the holding cell, reading an ancient-looking, leather-bound book.

He had hired Walt a few months back, and something told him that he would never regret that decision. Walt was a local boy and something of a football star in high school, enough to earn a football scholarship to college in California. After graduation, he had gone into the Marine Corps just in time to be sent into the invasion of Kuwait.

When he'd come home with a Durant-born wife and child, he'd come to Lucian looking for a job. He'd spent only a minute or two interviewing him before he gave him the position. Walt was intelligent, dedicated, and sometimes so serious that he became a pain in Lucian's butt; still, the current sheriff knew he was looking at a future occupant of the big office in the southside bay.

"Whatcha readin, troop?" Lucian asked.

"It's Dickens' A Christmas Carol. My dad gave it to me when I was a teen-ager. I read it every year on Christmas Eve…kinda my own holiday tradition…"

"Your dad is Lloyd Longmire, the farrier, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your mom and dad don't mind you working on Christmas Eve?"

"My father took my Mom on a long-overdue vacation to Hawaii for Christmas this year. Her brother, my uncle Joe, retired out there from the Navy." Walt shook his head. "He's been promising her that trip since I was a little boy."

Lucian whistled. "Hawaii sure is pretty."

"Never been there myself…maybe someday Martha and I can go."

"Don't she mind you workin' tonight?"

Walt shook his head. "Nope. She took our daughter to her parent's tonight. I'd rather work."

"Trouble with the in-laws?"

"Yep."

"Understood." Unconsciously, Lucian reached up and rubbed a scar on his scalp. "Your daughter's name is Cathy, right?"

"Cady."

"Oh right." He thought for a minute. "She'd be about four now, right?"

"Five, but she is kinda small for her age…Doc Bloomfield says she'll grow out of that, tho."

"She excited about Santa Claus?"

Walt smiled, a little sadly. "Yep, but this is probably the last year…she'll get outta that once she starts school."

Lucian nodded. "It's kinda sad to see the little ones lose the magic in their lives." Gawd Almighty, I'm startin' to get philosophical now…I'm getting' OLD! He ran a hand across his face. "She like dolls?"

"Yep, but horses more." Walt's expression suddenly changed. "Oh, crap, I almost forgot! Martha wanted me to invite you to our house tomorrow for pot-luck…about noon."

"You just feelin' sorry for this old man, or did she really invite me?"

"She sure did…"

"Do I need to bring anything?"

"I think that's kinda the whole idea, Boss."

A few minutes later, Sheriff Connally left the office. He cleaned the windshield of his truck, climbed in behind the wheel and fired up the engine. He headed out of town, toward the Rez. He had planned on just going home and drinking the holiday away, but now he had things to do before all the stores closed early tonight.

"I'll get it!" Cady Longmire yelled when the doorbell of the tiny Craftsman house rang. She ran to the door and flung it open, revealing Sheriff Connally standing on the other side of the storm door. She looked at him with all the seriousness an active five-year-old could muster on Christmas Day.

"You're the sheriff."

"Yep." Lucian smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, young'un."

"Merry Christmas." She studied him. "You work for my dad, right?"

"Something like that."

"Let the man in, Cady." A stunning redhead in a white wool sweater, jeans and boots came to the door. She smiled at him as she opened the outer door, and he was struck by one thought. How did a knucklehead like Walt Longmire end up with a drop-dead gorgeous woman like this? "Come in, please, Sheriff."

He shook her hand, then stooped to pick up a large paper bag he had brought from his truck. "You must be Martha."

"I am…Walt has told us so much about you, Sheriff." She smiled, and he could see flecks of gold in her bright, Irish green eyes. "I think he's got a little hero worship going on where you're concerned."

"I'm flattered, Mrs. Longmire. Walt is a helluva good cop."

"Please call me Martha, Sheriff.".

"And I'm Lucian."

With the preliminary courtesies over, Martha and Cady led him into the small, but immaculate house. One hallway on his left led toward bedrooms, and the right hand side of the house was the kitchen, small dining room and living room.

A neatly decorated Christmas tree dominated the living room, decorated with colored construction paper rings, strings of popcorn and cranberries. It was topped with a bright, hand-made star crafted from aluminum foil by careful five-year-old hands. Boxes, toys and wrapping paper circled the tree in careless abandon; it was the only spot in the house that wasn't immaculate.

He set his bag at the edge of the chaos and pulled out a bottle of wine he had purchased from Durant Liquor. The guy behind the counter said it was a very good vintage, but Lucian didn't know wine, his tastes ran more toward Pappy Van Winkle's. Still, he could not show up empty-handed, and he did not cook.

He handed the wine to Martha, whose eyes widened at the label. That's a good sign!

"Thank you, Sher…Lucian. This is a really wonderful wine!"

"You're very welcome." He picked up a colorfully wrapped present from the paper bag and handed it to Cady. "There musta been some kind of mistake…Santa Claus left this for you at my house, young'un!"

She grinned and began tearing at the paper. Her eyes widened in delight when she saw the intricately carved horse inside the paper. "WOW!" His quick trip out to a wood carver on the Rez was obviously a hit.

He smiled "Santa musta known you liked horses."

"Daddy!" Cady squealed. "Look what Santa left for me at the sheriff's house!"

Lucian turned to see his deputy coming down the hall, his hair still wet from a quick shower.

"Merry Christmas, boss," Walt said as they shook hands.

"Same to you, troop."

Martha smiled at both of them. "I hope you boys are hungry…Henry and I have made enough food to feed the entire county."

A few hours later, Lucian sat on the couch in the small but immaculate living room, trying to recover from the meal he had over-indulged in. As it turned out, Walt's best friend…what was his name again…Ladies Wear…that's it…was something of a gourmet cook. The turkey had been huge, and roasted to perfection; the mashed potatoes were real, thick and covered with a rich, flavorful gravy. Even the vegetables, roasted in the oven, were wonderful – and as much as he hated vegetables, that was saying something!

There had been a lot of people there - who knew that the tiny house could hold so many people? All of his deputies (and their families) had come by, found plates and scrounged places to sit. Ruby and Dorothy from the Busy Bee had come by, loaded with desserts…he'd had three pieces of Ruby's special pumpkin pie himself.

Now, stuffed and content, he sat and watched Walt and Martha's little girl. A few minutes ago, clutching the model horse he had given her, she had climbed up into her father's lap and gone quietly to sleep. Watching them, Lucien felt like he was intruding on a private moment so he got up and wandered toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was the last place he had seen Martha; something about her had been nagging at him for some time, and he had finally figured it out.

Martha was standing at the sink cleaning up the dessert dishes and chatting with Ruby.

"Need some help, ladies?"

Ruby shook her head. "Perfect timing, Lucian – as usual. We just got finished." She patted him on the sleeve as she went past him.

Martha brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Would you like a glass of this wonderful wine you brought, Lucien?"

"I'm not much of a wine person, but I'll try a glass – since it's a holiday and all."

She turned back to the counter and he admired her ass while she poured. She turned around suddenly, and Lucien knew she caught him ogling her. He knew she was too nice to mention it and embarrass him though.

She studied him for a moment. "Is there something you would like to ask me, Lucien?"

Her directness took him by surprise, but he tried to recover. "Okay…didn't you used to go around with that jackass brother of mine, back in the day?"

She took a sip of her wine, and her eyes studied him over the edge of the glass. "I was wondering when you would remember that." She nodded her head. "Yes, I dated Barlow a few years ago…"

"How did a beautiful woman like you fall for a guy like my brother?"

She smiled. "I said I dated him," she replied. "I never said I fell for him." She tilted her head a little as the sound of Walt's laughter floated through the room. "Now, that's the man I fell for!"

Lucien knew he was probably skating on thin ice, but – in his own defense – he had been drinking – a lot. Still, it was almost as though he could see himself about to make an ass of himself and was unable to stop himself. "Troop's a knucklehead," he scoffed. "What a beautiful woman like you needs is a real man…like me…"

She had to give her credit; she did try – very hard – not to laugh…but she did. And he quickly made his drunken escape from the kitchen. She said not a word to Walt about his stupid, drunken pass – at least not as far as he knew. But, not very long after, when Walt offered to drive him home, he jumped at the chance. Cady sat between them on the truck's bench seat, leading them in singing her favorite Christmas carols.

The very next day, he sent his deputy's wife a dozen red roses in apology.