“I have about twenty acres of trees now but plan to expand by at least another ten by next year. Would you like to have a look at the tree lot?”
“Not now.” Not at all, ever, but he knew that was out of the question. Once he took possession the Christmas trees would disappear. “Just tell me what I’ll be doing.”
For the next five minutes, she discussed pruning and replanting, spraying and cutting, bagging and shipping. All of which he could do. No problem. He’d just pretend they were ordinary trees.
“I’ll need character references before I make a final decision.”
Jesse reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper. He’d been prepared for that question. “Any of these people will tell you that I’m not a serial killer.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to have to shoot you.”
He must have looked as startled as he felt because she laughed. “That was a joke. A bad one, I’ll admit, but I can shoot and I do have a gun.”
Was she warning him to tread lightly? “Interesting hobby for a woman.”
“The rifle was my granddad’s. He had quite a collection.”
“Is he the one who taught you to shoot?”
“Mostly. But don’t worry about safety.” She glanced at his adorable little girl with the missing front tooth. “I have a double-locked gun safe to protect the kids who come out here. Owning a firearm is a huge responsibility that I don’t take lightly.”
Rising from the overstuffed armchair, she took the sheet of references from his outstretched fingers. The clean scent of soap mixed with the subtle remnants of coffee drifted around her. The combination reminded him way too much of Erin.
“I’ll give some of these folks a call and let you know something this afternoon. Will that be all right?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll need your telephone number. Where can I reach you?”
Jesse rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Hmm. That could be a problem. No phone yet.”
“Where are you living? Maybe I know someone close by and could have them bring you a message.”
“That’s another problem. No house yet either.”
She paused, a tiny frown appearing between a pair of naturally arched eyebrows. Funny that he’d notice a thing like a woman’s eyebrows. “You don’t have a place to live?”
Jade, who’d been as quiet as a mouse, happily sipping her juice and munching green and purple smiley faces, suddenly decided to enter the conversation. “We live in Daddy’s truck.”
Great. Now he’d probably be reported to child welfare.
But if Lindsey considered him a poor parent, she didn’t let on in front of Jade. “That must be an adventure. Like camping out.”
“Daddy says we’re getting a house of our own pretty soon.”
Jesse was glad he hadn’t told the child that he’d been talking about this house.
Lindsey’s eyes flickered from Jade to him. “Have you found anything yet?”
Oh, yes. He’d found exactly the right place.
“Not yet. First a job, then Jade and I have a date with the school principal. While she’s in school I’ll find a place to stay.”
“Rental property is scarce around here, but you might check at the Caboose. It’s an old railroad car turned into a diner on the north end of town across from the Dollar Store. Ask for Debbie. If there is any place for rent in the area, she’ll know about it.”
“Thanks.” He stood, took Jade’s empty juice carton and looked around for a trash can.
“I’ll take that.” Lindsey stretched out a palm, accepting the carton. No long fancy nails on those hands, but the short-clipped nails were as clean as a Sunday morning.
“Come on, Jade. Time to roll.” Jade hopped off the couch, tugging at the too-short tail of her T-shirt. The kid was growing faster than he could buy clothes.
Stuffing the last of the gummy fruits into her mouth, she handed the empty wrapper to Lindsey with a shy thank-you smile, then slipped her warm little fingers into his.
“How about if I give you a call later this afternoon,” Jesse asked. “After you’ve had a chance to check those references?”
“That will work.” She followed him to the door.
Jade tugged at him, reaching upward. “Carry me, Daddy.”
He followed the direction of her suddenly nervous gaze. From the front porch the affronted German shepherd peered in through the storm door, tail thumping hopefully against the wooden planks.
Jesse swept his daughter into his arms and out the door, leaving behind a dog that terrified his daughter, a house he coveted and a woman who disturbed him a little too much with her kindness.
He had a very strong feeling that he’d just compounded his already considerable problems.
Chapter Two
Uncertainty crowding her thoughts, Lindsey pushed the storm door open with one hand to let the dog inside though her attention remained on the man. He sauntered with a loose-limbed gait across the sunlit yard, his little girl tossed easily over one strong shoulder like a blanket.
Jesse Slater. The name sounded familiar somehow, but she was certain they’d never met. Even for someone as cautious of the opposite sex as she was, the man’s dark good looks would be hard to forget. Mysterious silver-blue eyes with sadness hovering at the crinkled corners, dark cropped hair above a face that somehow looked even more attractive because he hadn’t yet shaved this morning, and a trim athletic physique dressed in faded jeans and denim jacket over a Western shirt. Oh, yes, he was a handsome one all right. But looks did not impress Lindsey. Not anymore.
Still, she couldn’t get the questions out of her head. Why would a man with no job and a child to raise come to the small rural town of Winding Stair? It would be different if he had relatives here, but he’d mentioned none. Something about him didn’t quite ring true, but she was loath to turn him away. After all, if the Christmas Tree Farm was to survive, she needed help—immediately. And Jesse Slater needed a job. And she’d bet this broad-shouldered man was a hard worker.
The child, Jade, hair hanging down her father’s back like black fringe, looked up and saw that Sushi was now inside, then wiggled against her father to be let down. She slid down the side of his body then skipped toward the late-model pickup.
At the driver’s-side door, Jesse boosted the little girl into the cab and slid inside behind her. Then for the first time he looked up and saw Lindsey standing inside the storm door, watching his departure. He lifted a hand in farewell, though no smile accompanied the gesture. Lindsey, who smiled—and laughed—a lot, wondered if the darkly solemn Jesse had experienced much joy in his life.
The pickup roared to life, then backed out and disappeared down the long dirt drive, swirling leaves and dust into the morning air.
Lindsey, who preferred to think the best of others, tried to shrug off the nagging disquiet. After months of seeking help, she should be thankful, not suspicious, to have a strong, healthy man apply for the job. But the fact that she’d almost given up hope that anyone would be willing to work for the small salary she could afford to pay was part of what raised her suspicions.
She wrestled with her conscience. After all, the poor man had lost his wife and was raising a small daughter alone. Couldn’t that account for his air of mysterious sadness? Couldn’t he be seeking the solitude of the mountains and the quiet serenity of a small town to