“Is that what’s bothering you today? You think God doesn’t care about you as much as he does other people?”
“I’ve wondered.” A muscle twitched along one cheekbone. “But maybe I don’t deserve it.”
She ran her fingertips over the soft needles of the closest tree, praying for the right words to help her friend. “Jesus loved us—all of us—so much he died for us.”
“I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately.” He studied the ground as if the Oklahoma dirt held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. “But not everyone is as good as you are, Lindsey. Definitely not me.”
Lindsey’s pulse did a stutter-step.
“I’m not perfect, Jesse,” she said. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, too.”
Picking up her shears, she clipped at a wayward branch, unable to look at Jesse but compelled to share. “I was engaged once.”
Snip. Snip. She swallowed, nervous. “And I did things I regret. I trusted the wrong man, telling myself that love made our actions all right.” She snipped again, saw the shears tremble. “But that was a mistake. He was a mistake.”
Jesse’s work-hardened hand closed over hers, gently taking the clippers. “Lindsey.”
Her gaze flew to his face.
She wondered if she had disappointed him, but Jesse needed to understand that she had made her share of wrong choices—and yet God loved her.
Fire flashed in Jesse’s silvery eyes. “The man,” he said, “was a moron.”
Sweet relief washed through Lindsey. Jesse wasn’t angry at her. He was angry for her.
“So was I. Then. But God forgave me, and eventually I forgave myself.” She reached for the cutters, her fingers grazing his. “He’ll do the same for you.”
“Yeah. Well…” Jesse let the words drift away.
She knew he’d tried to serve God in the past, but had drifted away when Erin died. Understandable, but so backwards. She’d learned the hard way to run to the Lord when trouble struck instead of away from Him.
They stood in silence, contemplative for a bit until Jesse bent to retrieve the chain saw.
“Guess we better get back to work if I’m going to haul that load in the morning.”
For all the conversation, trouble still brooded over him like a dark cloud.
“Jesse.”
He paused.
“Is there anything else bothering you?” she asked, certain that there was. “Anything I can help with?”
Silver eyes studied her for several long seconds. He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m grateful to you, Lindsey. No matter what happens. Remember that.”
Puzzled by the strange declaration, Lindsey waited for him to say more, but before he could, a truck rumbled through the gate, and the moment was gone. As if relieved by the interruption, Jesse hurried to greet the customer.
She’d seen so much change in Jesse since the day he’d first driven into her yard asking for a job. She’d watched him grow more comfortable with her talk of God. He was easier around the Christmas decorations too, and since telling her of Erin’s death, he’d opened up some about his feelings of guilt in that department. And he smiled more too.
But today, regardless of his denial, Jesse battled something deep and worrisome. And given his peculiar behavior, she had a bad feeling that his troubles had something to do with her.
Heat from the farmhouse embraced Jesse as he came through the door. The dog, curled beside the living-room furnace, lifted her head, recognized him, and lay down again with a heavy sigh. Jesse stood for a moment in the doorway, taking in the warm, homey comfort of this place. A sense of déjà vu came over him, a subconscious memory of long ago when the world had been right.
The aroma of roast beef tickled his nose and made his hungry stomach growl. The tree patch was quiet, only one buyer since noon, and Lindsey had knocked off early to make Jade’s costume and cook supper for them all. After his behavior the other day, he found it hard to refuse her anything.
Jade’s giggle blended with Lindsey’s rich laugh in a sweet music that had Jesse longing to hear it again and again. They were at the table, happily laboring over some kind of gauzy white material and yards of sparkly gold tinsel.
He’d been wrong to jump on Lindsey about making the costume and even more wrong to accuse of her trying to take Erin’s place. No one could do that. But Lindsey’s love and motherly care was changing Jade for the better. Only a fool would deny or resent the obvious.
And he’d almost told Lindsey the truth. He’d yearned to admit that her farm was his and that he wanted it back. The torment was eating him alive because, to get what he wanted, he had to break Lindsey’s heart. He’d tried praying, as she had suggested, but his prayers bounced off the ceiling and mocked him.
Lindsey spotted him, then, standing in the doorway, watching. Her full mouth lifted. “You look frozen.”
He gave a shiver for effect. The temperature had plummeted into the twenties, unusual for this part of the country. Working outside in the Oklahoma wind proved a challenge.
“I thought you could make that costume in an hour?”
“I can. But I’m teaching Jade.”
Stripping off his heavy coat, he came on into the kitchen. “Isn’t she too little for sewing?”
“Daddy!” Insulted, Jade jammed a saucy hand onto a hip. “I have to learn sometime. Besides, I’m the tryer-on-er.”
Amused, he tilted his head in apology. “I stand corrected.”
“We’ll have the body of the gown finished in a few minutes. Coffee’s on and Cokes are in the fridge. Whichever you want.”
No matter how cold the weather, Jesse liked his cola. Going to the refrigerator, he took one, popped the top and turned to watch the womenfolk do their thing.
Patiently, Lindsey held the gauzy fabric beneath the sewing-machine needle, demonstrating how to move the gown without sewing her own fingers. She looked so pretty with her honey hair falling forward, full lips pursed in concentration. He’d been right the first time he’d seen her. Lindsey, beneath her flannel and denim, was very much a woman.
He sipped his cola, wanting to look away, but he couldn’t. Watching Lindsey gave him too much pleasure.
When the seam was sewn, Jade took the scissors and proudly clipped the thread.
“There you go, Miss Angel.” Lindsey held the white flowing garment against Jade’s body. “Perfect fit.”
Jade looked doubtful. “Where’s the wings?”
“We’ll do those after supper. Jesse, if you’ll move the machine, we can set the table.”
“Anything to hurry the food.” He unplugged the old Singer that must have belonged to her grandmother, and hefted it into Lindsey’s spare room.
“Tell me your part again,” Lindsey was saying as he came back into the kitchen.
“Below the angel’s shining light, love was born on Christmas night,” Jade recited, slowly and with expression.
“You’re going to be the very best speaker.” Scooping the remaining materials off the table, Lindsey spoke to Jesse. “Isn’t she, Dad?”
“No doubt about it.” He hooked an arm around Jade’s middle and hoisted her up. Her giggle made him smile. “And the prettiest angel, too.”
“Are you going to come watch me?”
The