As they went from tree to tree, discussing the perfect shape and size, Lindsey realized that Jesse and Jade had disappeared. In moments, she knew why. Red and green lights, dim in the bright November sun, flicked on all over the lot. Then the gentle strains of “Away in a Manger” filtered from the stereo speakers Jesse had stretched from the gate into the trees.
When he returned, coming up beside Lindsey with Jade in tow, she couldn’t hold back her gratitude. “Thank you for thinking of that.”
He shrugged off the compliment. “Some people like this stuff.”
But you don’t. What could have happened to turn Jesse into such a Scrooge? She wanted to ask why again, to press him for information, but now, with a customer present, was not the moment.
The family found the perfect tree and Jesse set to work. In no time, the tree was cut, baled, and carefully secured on top of the family’s car. Three exuberant children piled inside the four-door sedan, faces rosy with excitement and cold. The soldier reached for his wallet, but Lindsey held out a hand to stop him.
“No way. The tree is a gift. Enjoy it.”
The man argued briefly, but seeing Lindsey’s stubborn stance, finally gave in. “This means a lot to my family.”
He got inside the car and started the engine.
“Merry Christmas.” Lindsey said, leaning down into the open window. “You’ll be in my prayers.”
With more thanks and calls of Merry Christmas, the family drove away, the Virginia pine waving in the wind.
“That was a real nice thing you did,” Jesse said, his arm resting against hers as they watched the car jounce down the driveway.
“I love to give trees to people like that. What a blessing.”
“You don’t make money giving them away.”
“No, but you create joy, and that’s worth so much more.”
Jade, who’d been listening, rubbed her hand across the needles of a nearby pine and spoke in a wistful voice. “I wish I could have a Christmas tree.”
“What a grand idea!” Lindsey clapped her hands. The sound startled several blackbirds into flight. “Let’s pick one right now. You and your daddy can decorate it tonight.”
Beside her, Jesse stiffened. A warning sounded in Lindsey’s head, but she pushed it away, intent upon this latest happy project.
“Come on.” She gestured toward the smaller trees. “You can choose your very own tree. Any one you want.”
Jade held back, her face a contrast of longing and reluctance.
The warning sound grew louder. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Don’t you want a tree?”
Small shoulders slumping with the weight, Jade wagged her head, dejected. “Daddy won’t let me.”
“Sure he will.”
But one look at Jesse told her she was wrong.
“Jesse?” With a sinking feeling, she searched his face. What she found there unnerved her.
“Leave it alone, Lindsey,” he growled, jaw clenching and unclenching.
“Daddy hates Christmas.” Tears shimmered in Jade’s green eyes. “Mommy—”
“Jade!” Jesse’s tortured voice stopped her from saying more. He stared at his daughter, broken and forlorn.
Jade’s eyes grew round and moist. Biting her lower lip, she flung her arms around Jesse’s knees.
Expression bereft, Jesse stroked his daughter’s hair, holding her close to him.
Heart pounding in consternation, Lindsey prayed for wisdom. Whatever had happened was still hurting Jesse and this precious little girl. And avoiding the issue would not make the pain go away.
She touched him, lightly, tentatively. “Let me help, Jesse. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Talking doesn’t change anything.” His face was as hard as stone, but his eyes begged for release.
She hesitated, not wanting to toss around platitudes, but knowing the real answer to Jesse’s need. “I don’t know if you want to hear this, but there’s nothing too big for the Lord. Jesus will heal all our sorrows if we let him.”
“I wish I could believe that. I wish…” With a weary sigh, he lifted Jade into his arms and went to the little bench along the edge of the grove and sat down. With a deep, shivering sigh, he stared over Jade’s shoulder into the distance, seeing something there that no one else could.
Unsure how to proceed, but knowing she had to help this man who’d come to mean too much to her, Lindsey settled on the bench beside him and waited, praying hard that God would give her the words.
Something terrible had broken Jesse’s heart and her own heart broke from observing his pain.
After an interminable length of silence disrupted only by the whisper of wind through pine boughs, Jade climbed down from her daddy’s lap.
Her dark brows knit together. “Daddy?”
“I’m okay, Butterbean.” He clearly was not. “Go play. I want to talk to Lindsey.”
“About Mommy?”
Jesse dragged a hand over his mouth. “Yeah.”
Lindsey saw the child hesitate as though she felt responsible for her father’s sorrow. Finally, she drifted away, going to the parked wagon where she sat anxiously watching the adults.
When Jesse finally began to speak, the words came out with a soft ache, choppy and disconnected.
“Erin looked a lot like Jade. Black hair and green eyes. Pale skin. She was a good woman, a Christian like you.” He hunched down into his jacket, though the afternoon air wasn’t cold. “I tried to be one, too, when she was alive.”
So that explained how Jade had learned to pray and why she knew bits and pieces about Jesus. Jesse and his wife had known the Lord, but something had driven him away from his faith.
“Christmas was a very big deal to her. She loved to shop, especially for Jade and me. We didn’t have a lot of money.” He kicked at a dirt clod, disintegrating the clump into loose soil. “My fault, but Erin made the best of it. We always had a good Christmas because of her. She could make a ten-dollar gift seem worth a million.”
Something deep inside told Lindsey to be quiet and let him talk. Letting the pain out was the first step to healing, and the cleansing would give the Lord an opportunity to move in. Granny had taught her that when she’d wanted to curl into a ball and disappear from the pain of Sean’s betrayal.
“Two years ago—” He stopped, sat up straight and tilted his head backward, looking into the sky.
“What happened?” she urged gently.
“Christmas Eve. Erin had a few last-minute gifts to buy. One present she’d had in layaway for a while, though I didn’t know it at the time. She’d been waiting to have enough money to pick up that one gift.” He swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “Jade and I stayed at the house, watching Christmas cartoons and munching popcorn balls. We were waiting for Erin to get home before we hung the stockings. We never hung them because Erin never came home.”
Biting at her lower lip, Lindsey closed her eyes and prayed for guidance.
“Oh, Jesse,” she whispered, not knowing what else to say. “I’m so sorry.”
He shifted around to look at her. “I’m not telling you this for sympathy.”
But sympathy wasn’t the only emotion rushing through her veins.
She