“I’m learning to be content in the Lord, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about having a family someday.”
Something stirred inside Jesse. Lindsey would make a great mother—and a good wife to the right man. Someday one of those holy churchgoers who’d never committed a sin in his life would marry her.
Already miserable with the forthcoming Christmas tree, he didn’t want to think about Lindsey with some other man.
Fighting off the uncomfortable thoughts, he stroked a knuckle down Jade’s cheek. “Hey, Butterbean. Wake up. Ready to get that Christmas tree?”
His little girl blinked, her green eyes sleepy and confused, but filled with a hope that seared him. “Really?”
With a nod, he swallowed hard and helped her down from the wagon. As if she expected the offer to be rescinded at any moment, Jade wasted no time. She grabbed each adult by the hand and pulled them toward the grove.
An hour later, laden with lights and tinsel and lacy white angel ornaments Lindsey had given Jade from a box in her Christmas building, they’d headed back to the trailer. Jade had been ecstatic over the three-foot tree, raising the level of Jesse’s guilt as well as his anxiety. All the way into town he’d wondered if he could actually go through with it, if he could spend a month staring at a reminder of all he’d lost.
In the end he’d been a coward, placing the small, shining tree in Jade’s bedroom where he wouldn’t have to see it. His child had been so thrilled with the thing, she hadn’t questioned the reason. He’d nearly broken, though, when she’d crawled exhausted beneath her covers, the sweetest smile on earth lifting her bow mouth. “Is it okay if I say a prayer and thank Jesus for my tree and all my guarding angels?”
“Sure, baby, sure.”
Long after she’d fallen asleep, he’d sat in the trailer’s tiny living room, staring blindly at the paneled wall.
What had he gotten himself into? Lindsey Mitchell with her sweetness and overwhelming decency was tearing him apart. His frozen heart had begun to thaw. And like blood-flow returning to frost-bitten fingers, the sensation was pure torture.
Chapter Eight
Jesse was tired, bone-weary. A basket of laundry at his feet, he sat on the plastic couch in his mobile home folding clothes. Jade was in her tiny excuse of a bedroom playing with a small dollhouse borrowed from Lindsey.
After the busy Thanksgiving weekend, he’d worked half of last night, and even though the tree farm was jumping this morning, he’d knocked off at noon. He felt bad about leaving Lindsey alone with the customers, but he had business to attend to.
Then he’d spent hours in the courthouse and on the telephone, leaking out bits of himself to strangers in exchange for information about his stepfather. One conversation had given him the name of a backwoods lawyer who’d been around eighteen years ago. A lawyer with a drinking problem who’d been known to do “buddy deals.” Trouble was, no one remembered where the man had gone when he’d left Winding Stair years ago.
His stomach growled and he tried to remember if he’d eaten today. Probably not. Lindsey usually forced lunch on him, but he’d left too early for that.
He needed answers worse than he needed food. Day after day in Lindsey’s company was starting to scare him. And for all the good she’d done his child, Jade was getting too attached. He had to bring this situation to an end soon.
A sudden knock rattled the entire trailer. Tossing aside a worn towel, he went to answer the door, bristling at the sight of his oversized visitor. Preacher Cliff whatever-his-name-was. No wonder the trailer had shaken under the pounding. So Lindsey had betrayed his confidence and sicced her minister on him. Preparing for an onslaught of unwanted advice, pat answers and sympathy for his loss, he opened the door.
“Hey Jesse, how are you doing?”
Jesse accepted the warm handshake and exchanged greetings. “Come on in.”
Not that he really wanted the preacher in his house, but he didn’t want to upset Lindsey either.
“No, no. I can’t stay. The men are working on the church Christmas display tonight, and Karen threatened not to feed me if I was late to supper.” He gave a hearty laugh and tapped his belly. “Can’t be starving the skinny little preacher.”
In spite of himself, Jesse smiled. It was hard not to like Lindsey’s pastor.
“I hate to bother you with this,” Cliff went on, “but Lindsey tells me you’re a whiz with electrical hookups. Brags to everyone about you. We’re having a bit of trouble at the church getting our display to work right, and she thought you might be willing to have a look.”
Jesse’s first impulse was to say no and slam the door, but the preacher’s words soaked through first. Lindsey bragged about him to other people?
In spite of himself he asked, “Any idea what’s gone wrong?”
“Aw, I don’t know. Clarence and Mick seemed to think the problem is in the breaker box, but we can’t fix it.”
Jesse squinted in contemplation. “Clarence and Mick will be there?”
“They’re at the church right now. That’s why I came by to talk to you. They’re at their wits’ end with this thing.”
Clarence Stone was a man who’d been around a while, a man who might know more about the lawyer, Stuart Hardwick. Spending time in his company, even at a church, could be worth the effort. And he’d seen Mick Thompson several times since the cookout weeks ago and liked the guy. He wasn’t one of those preachy kind of Christians who didn’t know how to get his hands dirty. And their common interest in horses might someday lead to friendship. He’d need a friend when he regained the land that Lindsey now called home.
Ignoring the pinch of regret that grew worse each time he thought of Lindsey’s reaction to losing the farm, he looked at his watch. “I’ll head over there now, see what I can do.”
Cliff clapped Jesse on the shoulder. “Great. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
Jesse knew where Winding Stair Chapel was located and, after collecting Jade and her dolls and making sure his tools were in the truck, drove to the church.
Three other pickups were parked outside the native-rock building. Their owners were scattered around the outside of the church at various projects. They’d set up a life-sized nativity and lined the railed walkway from the parking area to the entrance with luminaries. The two huge evergreens standing sentry on each corner of the lot had been draped with lights, and the outline of an enormous star rose high over the chapel. A man wearing a leather tool belt balanced on the roof, laboring over the star.
The men had gone to a lot of trouble, and from the looks of things, they were far from finished.
He was surprised to find himself here, at a church. Not that he didn’t believe in God, but part of him wondered if God believed in him. He’d felt empty for such a long time.
“Man, are we glad to see you,” Mick Thompson called as soon as Jesse and Jade exited the pickup. “Help’s on the way, boys,” he bellowed to the remaining men. “Lindsey’s expert is here.”
Lindsey’s expert? The friendly greeting buoyed Jesse. As tired as he was, he wanted to help if possible. “I’ll do what I can. What’s the main trouble?”
Clarence Stone waved his arms at a latticework of electrical circuitry spread over the churchyard. “Everything. We’re all hooked up, cords and wires are run, but the angels won’t flutter and Baby Jesus won’t shine.”
Jesse squelched his amusement at the old man’s joking manner.
“Show me your electrical setup and where all