Mick’s mustache quirked. “Figure you’d say so if you didn’t think you could.”
“I can.”
“See?” Mick clapped him on the back and clasped his hand in a brief squeeze. “My number’s in the book. And I pay the going rate.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I doubt I can get loose from here until after the holidays.”
The familiar sense of dread crawled through his belly. He’d much rather be tossed in the dirt by a bucking horse than spend one minute in Lindsey’s tree lot. He’d counted on the old adage that familiarity breeds indifference. So far, that hadn’t proven true. If anything, he dreaded the coming weeks more than ever.
Mick sipped at his soda before saying, “After Christmas is fine with me. Those colts aren’t going anywhere. Meantime, if you need help hauling these trees, let me know. I got a flatbed settin’ over there in my barn rustin’.”
“He sure does,” Clarence teased. “And it would do him good to put in a full day’s work for a change.”
An unbidden warmth crept through Jesse. Offers of help from friends didn’t come too often, but this offhand generosity of strangers was downright unsettling.
“Jade, Jade.” Two little girls about Jade’s age came running up and interrupted the conversation. One on each side, they grabbed her hands and pulled. “Come play tag.”
She looked to Jesse for approval. “Can I, Daddy?”
“Don’t you want to finish your hotdog?”
“I’m full.” She handed him the last bite of the squeezed and flattened sandwich.
He downed the remains and wiped the mustard off her face. “Go on and play.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come with me.”
Jesse shook his head, standing his ground for once. “I haven’t finished my own hotdog. I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”
After a moment of uncertainty, the desire to play with her friends won out.
Jesse’s heart gladdened to see his little girl race away with the other children for once instead of clinging to his leg like a barnacle.
Biting into his smoky hotdog, Jesse watched and listened, hoping for an opportunity to casually probe for information. His attention strayed to the gregarious preacher.
Pastor Cliff seemed to be everywhere, laughing, joking and making sure everyone had a great time. The teenagers flocked around him as though he was some football star, begging him to join their games, occasionally pelting him with a marshmallow to gain his attention. Punctuating the air with a few too many “praise the Lords” for Jesse’s comfort, the preacher nonetheless came across like a regular guy. He’d even overheard Cliff promise to help repair someone’s leaky roof next week. The big man sure wasn’t like any minister Jesse had ever encountered.
“When are we taking that wagon ride, Lindsey?” Cliff bellowed, indicating a small boy perched on his shoulders. “Nathaniel says he’s ready when you are.”
“Do you kids want the tractor or the horse to pull us?” Lindsey called back.
“The horse. The horse,” came a chorus of replies from all but the preacher.
Jesse knew the big, powerful horse stood nearby inside a fenced lot, his oversized head hanging over the rails, waiting his opportunity. The animal liked people and was gentle as a baby.
“How about you, Cliff? What’s your preference?” A man called, his face wreathed in mischief.
The oversized preacher waved his upraised hands in mock terror. “Now, Tom, you know I don’t mess with any creature that’s bigger than me.”
“Which wouldn’t be too many, Cliff,” came the teasing answer.
Everyone laughed, including Cliff, though the joke was on him. Grudgingly, Jesse admired that. The minister he’d known would have seen the joke as an offense to his lofty position.
“You’re out-voted, preacher,” Lindsey called, starting toward the gate. “I’ll get Puddin’.”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket, Jesse fell into step beside her. Though mingling with the church crowd provided opportunities to gather information, he needed some distance. He hadn’t expected their friendliness, the ease with which they accepted him, and most of all, he’d not expected them to be such everyday, normal people. Lindsey’s church family, as she called them, was fast destroying his long-held view of Christians as either stiff and distant or pushy and judgmental.
“Need any help?” he asked.
She withdrew a small flashlight from inside her jacket, aimed the beam toward the gate, and whistled softly. “I put his harness on earlier. All I need to do is hook the traces to the wagon.”
Jesse stepped into the light and raised the latch. In seconds the big horse lumbered up to nuzzle at his owner while she snapped a lead rope onto his halter. Together they led him toward the waiting wagon.
“He’s a nice animal.” Jesse ran a hand over the smooth, warm horseflesh, enjoying the feel again after too much time away from the rodeo. “What breed is he?”
“Percheron mostly.” She smiled at the horse with affection. “Although I’m not sure he’s a full-blood since I have no papers on him, but he has the sweet temperament and muscular body the breed is known for. And he loves to work.”
“Percheron.” Jesse rolled the word over in his head. He knew enough about horses to know the name, but that was about it. “Different from the quarter horses I’m used to.”
“Certainly different from the wild broncs. Puddin’ doesn’t have a buck anywhere in him.” One on each side of the massive horse, they headed back toward the heat and light of the bonfire. “Every kid within a ten-mile radius has ridden him, walked under him, crawled over him, and he doesn’t mind at all.” She turned toward him, her face shadowed and pale in the bright moonlight. “What about you? Do you still have horses?”
He shook his head. “No. After Erin died, I—” He stopped, not wanting to revisit the horrible devastation when he’d sold everything and hit the road, trying to run from the pain and guilt. He’d told Lindsey more about his past than he’d ever intended to, but talking about Erin was taboo. “I’d better find Jade.”
He stalked off toward the circle of squealing children, aware that he’d been abrupt with Lindsey and trying not to let that bother him. He’d intentionally sought her company, and now he was walking away.
Ruefully, he shook his head. What a guy.
In the distance he spotted Jade, her long hair flying out behind her as she ran, laughing. With a hitch beneath his rib cage, he watched his daughter, grateful for the rare display of playful abandon. Letting the shadows absorb him, he stood along the perimeter of children, hoping this place would ultimately heal them both.
“Hey, Jesse.” A hand bigger than Puddin’s hoof landed on his shoulder. The preacher. “Great party, huh?”
“Yeah.” Though he didn’t belong here, he had to admit the party was a success. Just seeing Jade carefree was worth a few hours discomfort on his part.
“Lindsey’s a great gal.”
Jesse followed the minister’s gaze to where Lindsey, surrounded by too many youthful helpers, attached the patient horse to the wagon. Silently, he agreed with Cliff’s assertion. Lindsey was a good woman. Her decency was giving his conscience fits. “You known her long?”
“A few years. Ever since coming here to minister.” Cliff nodded at the rowdy crowd around the fire. “Most of these folks have known her and each other much longer, but God