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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 really blessed me when he sent me to Winding Stair. I feel as if Lindsey and all the others out there are my family now.”
Clarence approached, this time accompanied by a small, gray-haired woman with rosy cheeks who carried a plate of homemade cookies. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be, ain’t it, preacher?”
Cliff reached for the cookies. “Yep.”
“How about you, Jesse?” Clarence motioned toward the plate.
Out of courtesy Jesse accepted the dessert, taking a bite. He liked the mildly sweet flavor of the old-fashioned cookie. “These are good.”
“Course they are,” Clarence said. “Loraine makes the best oatmeal cookies in the county. And if you don’t believe me, just ask her.”
“Oh, Clarence, you old goof.” The smiling little woman flapped a hand at him. “Jesse, don’t pay any mind to my husband. This isn’t my recipe and he knows it. Lindsey’s grandma gave it to me. Now that woman could cook.”
Blood quickening, Jesse saw the opportunity and took it. “You knew Lindsey’s grandparents?”
“Sure did. Better folks never walked the earth, as far as I’m concerned.” She paused long enough to dole out more cookies to passers-by. Jesse kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to go on, blood humming with the hope that he was about to learn something.
“Betty Jean—that was her grandma—could do about anything domestic. A country version of Martha Stewart, I guess you’d say.” She chuckled softly at her own joke. “And she wasn’t stingy about it either. Would share a jar of pickles or a recipe without batting an eye. A fine neighbor, she was. A real fine neighbor.”
She looked a little sad and Jesse shifted uncomfortably. He needed to keep Loraine and Clarence talking but he didn’t want to think of the Mitchells as decent folks. There was nothing decent about stealing from an orphan.
Keeping his tone casual, Jesse said, “Lindsey’s a good cook too.”
“Betty Jean would have made sure of that.” Loraine thrust the nearly empty plate toward him. “Another cookie?”
“Might as well take one, Jesse,” Clarence put in with a chortle. “She ain’t happy unless she’s feeding someone.”
Jesse hid a smile. It was hard not to like Loraine and Clarence Stone. “Thanks.”
He accepted the cookie, mind searching for a way to gain more information. He’d suffered through an hour of stilted conversation to get this far. He wasn’t about to let this chance slip away.
“What about Lindsey’s grandpa? I guess he’s the one who taught her to use that rifle….”
“Yep,” Clarence said. “That was Charlie, all right. Me and him used to hunt and fish together, and he liked to brag about Lindsey’s shooting. Called her his little Annie Oakley.”
Jesse’s stomach leaped.
Charlie.
His patience had paid off. At last, he had someone to blame along with his stepfather. Lindsey’s grandfather, the man who’d stolen this eighty-acre farm from a teenage boy, was named Charlie Mitchell.
In the shadowy distance, snatches of conversation and laughter floated on the night air. One particular laugh—a throaty, warm sound that sent shivers down his spine—stood out from the rest.
Lindsey.
He wanted to put his hands over his ears, to block out the sound. He’d finally discovered some information, and nobody, no matter how sweet and kind, was going to stop him from using it.
Chapter Five
Lindsey draped her jacket over the back of a kitchen chair and went to the sink. She’d had a long afternoon without Jesse there to help, but she couldn’t complain. In the weeks he’d worked on the farm, this was the first time he’d asked for time off. So she had spent the afternoon marking the trees they’d soon cut and bale for delivery.
Ever since the night of the cookout, she’d noticed a shift in him. He worked harder than ever on the farm, putting in long hours and cutting himself no slack. But he seemed to be bothered by something—not that there was anything new about that—but this was a subtle mulling as though he had something heavy on his mind.
With a sigh, Lindsey acknowledged how much she’d come to depend upon the mysterious Jesse. She needed him, and regardless of his inner demons, she liked him. He was a good man with a heavy burden. If only she could find a way to help him past that burden—whatever it was.
Two or three times today she’d turned to ask Jesse’s advice about something before remembering he was gone. Funny how she’d never needed anyone before other than Sushi and the Lord, but Jesse had changed all that. And she wasn’t sure becoming dependent on her hired hand was such a good idea.
Turning the water tap, she filled a glass and drank deeply, thirsty even though the early November weather was cloudy and cool with the promise of rain hanging like a gray veil over the land. In the back of her mind, she faintly registered a rumbling in the distance but paid little mind. After washing and drying her hands, she headed to the refrigerator.
She had one hand on last night’s chicken and rice when the screaming began.
An adrenaline rush more powerful than an electric shock propelled her into action. Faster than she thought possible, Lindsey bounded into the bedroom, unlocked the gun case, removed her rifle and rushed out into the yard, loading the weapon as she moved. An occasional mountain lion roamed these hills.
Peering in the direction of the screams, Lindsey stopped…and lowered the gun.
Jade stood halfway down the gravel driveway, frozen in fear, screaming her head off. Directly in front of her, Sushi lay on her back, feet in the air, groveling for all she was worth.
With a feeling somewhere between relief and exasperation, Lindsey stashed the rifle on the porch and loped down the driveway.
What was Jade doing here? Where was Jesse? And when would the child realize that Sushi was her friend?
“Sushi, come,” she called. The German shepherd leaped to her feet, shook off the dust and leaves and trotted to Lindsey’s side. Pointing to a spot several yards away from the terrified child, she commanded, “Stay.”
The dog obeyed, plopping her bottom onto the dirt, tongue lolling, while she watched Jade with worried eyes.
Jade’s screaming subsided, but the harsh sobs continued as Lindsey went down on her knees and took the little girl into her arms. She had a dozen questions, but now was not the time to ask them. Soon enough she could discover why Jesse had not picked up Jade at school as he’d planned.
“Jade, listen to me.” Pushing the tangled hair, damp with tears, back from Jade’s face she said gently, “Stop crying and listen. We need to talk like big girls.”
Jade gave several shuddering sobs, scrubbing at her eyes with her fingertips. “The dog was going to get me.”
“That’s what we have to talk about. Sushi will not hurt you. Look at her. She’s sitting down there begging for you to like her, but she won’t even come near you unless I tell her to.”
“She ran at me. I saw her teeth.”
“She was smiling at you. You’re part of her family now and she was excited to see you. That’s how she behaves when I come home from someplace, too.”
“It is?” Wary and unconvinced, Jade glanced from Lindsey to Sushi and back again.
“Sure. Every time you come home, she whines to be let out so she can play with you. It makes her very sad that you don’t like her.”
Jade’s expression said she was thinking that over, but still she clung tightly to Lindsey.
“Where’s my daddy?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie. He was supposed to pick you up at school.”
The little girl’s small shoulders slumped. “He’s probably dead.” And she burst out crying again.
“No, Jade, no.” Please God, let me be right. Don’t let anything else happen to this child. The loss of her mother had completely destroyed her sense of safety. “Your daddy is running late and didn’t get back in time. He’ll be here soon, and while we wait, you and I can have a dress-up tea party.”
Lindsey could see she scored some points with the idea so she pressed the advantage. “Sushi wants to come, too. She even has some dress-up clothes.”
Jade found that amusing. A hesitant smile teetered around her mouth. “Really?”
“Absolutely. All my Sunday-school kids invite Sushi to their tea parties because she’s such a nice dog, so she has a hat, a boa and a fancy vest to wear.”
“She might bite me.”
“No.” Lindsey said firmly. “She will not.” Sliding Jade to the ground, she took the child’s hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Sushi waited right where she’d been told to stay, eagerly thumping her tail at the first sign of movement in her direction.
Jade pulled back. “Uh-uh.”
Lindsey sighed, but relented and swept the little girl into her arms. “Okay, then. I have another idea.”
She carried Jade to the house. A bewildered Sushi remained in the driveway as commanded.
“Stand here inside the house where you can see Sushi and me through the glass door.” Lindsey took a piece of leftover chicken from the fridge. She’d planned to have the meat for supper, but helping Jade begin the process of overcoming this phobia was far more important. “Watch what a good girl Sushi is and how she loves to play, but she always minds me when I tell her to do something. Okay?”
Nodding and wide-eyed, Jade stood inside the door, her face pressed to the glass while Lindsey stepped onto the porch and called the dog. When Sushi arrived, skidding to a stop at her owner’s command, Lindsey spent several minutes putting the animal through all her obedience commands. Extremely well disciplined, Sushi even resisted the piece of baked chicken, though Lindsey knew the meat was her favorite treat.
Then she played with Sushi, petting her, tossing sticks that the dog retrieved, scratching her belly.
Finally, Lindsey lay down on the porch to show her total trust of the dog. Sushi responded by plopping her big head onto Lindsey’s chest with a delighted sigh that made Jade laugh.
Sitting up, Lindsey rotated toward Jade. “See what a good girl she is?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Would you like to pet her?”
“Uh-uh.” But Lindsey could see that, for once, she wanted to.
Confident they’d made progress, Lindsey relented. “Maybe next time?”
Leaving Sushi on the porch, Lindsey dusted her clothes and came inside. She peeked at the yellow teapot clock hanging over the cook stove. Jade had been here at least thirty minutes and still no sign of Jesse. Refusing to worry, she internalized a little prayer, and turned her attention to occupying Jade. The little girl didn’t need to fret about her daddy even if Lindsey was.
“I’m starved.”
“Me, too.”
Using her best imitation of an English lady, Lindsey said, “Shall we prepare tea and dine?”
Jade giggled. “Can we dress up too? And you can be the princess and I’ll be the queen?”
“Lovely idea, my queen. Right this way, please.” Nose in the air as befit royalty, she led the way to the huge plastic storage bin in her bedroom closet where she kept a variety of thrift-shop and novelty-store play clothes. Jade, getting into the spirit of the game, followed suit. She fell upon the container, carefully lifting out one garment after another, exclaiming over each one as if the clothes came from Rodeo Drive.
In no time, she’d chosen outfits for both of them and they traipsed on plastic high heels, boas trailing, into the kitchen to prepare the Oklahoma version of high tea.
“Let’s make fancy sandwiches first. Later, we’ll do cookies.”
“Do you have Christmas cookie cutters?” Jade shoved at her sun hat, repositioning the monstrosity on her head. Bedecked with more flowers than Monet had ever painted, the hat tied with a wide scarf under the child’s chin. Lindsey thought she looked adorable.
“A bunch of them. We can use them on the sandwiches if you want to.”
“Cool. Do you gots sprinkles too?”
“Oh, yeah. I have tons of sprinkles. All colors. But let’s not put those on the sandwiches.”
Jade giggled. “For the cookies, silly. I want to make Daddy a big red cookie.” Her face fell. “I wish my daddy would come. I’ll bet he’s getting hungry.”
“He’ll be here soon,” Lindsey said with more confidence than she felt as she spread the sandwich fixings on the table. “Tell you what. Let’s say a little prayer asking Jesus to take care of him and bring him safely home.”
She hardly noticed that she’d referred to her own house as home for Jesse and Jade. Semantics didn’t matter right now.
“Okay.” To Lindsey’s surprise, Jade closed her eyes and folded her little hands beneath her chin. Even though Jesse shied away at the mention of God, someone had taught this child to pray.
Closing her own eyes, Lindsey said a short but heartfelt prayer.
“Amen.”
Jade’s shoulders relaxed. “Jesus will take care of Daddy, won’t He?”
“Yes, He will. And He’ll take care of you too.” She smeared mayo on a slice of bread, handing it to Jade to layer on the meat and cheese. “Did you know you have a guardian angel who is always with you?”
Shaking her head, Jade licked the mayo off one finger.
“Well, you do. Everybody does. But God has very special guardian angels that take care of children. Jesus loves you so much He tells your very own angel to keep watch over you day and night.”
“Even when I’m asleep?”
“Yes.” She chose an angel from the pile of cookie cutters. “That’s why you don’t need to be afraid of anything—ever. Your angel is always here, looking after you.”
Jade took the metal angel, studied it, and then pressed the shape into a sandwich. “Does Daddy have a guarding angel?”
Lindsey smiled at the mispronunciation. “He sure does.”
“Can I save this angel sandwich for my daddy?”
“Of course you can. We’ll make enough of everything so he can eat, too, when he gets here.”
That seemed to satisfy Jade, and Lindsey wished she were as easily comforted. Where was Jesse? Leaving Jade alone was so uncharacteristic of him. Had something happened? In the weeks of their acquaintance she’d grown fond of him, fonder than was comfortable, and the thought of something happening to him was unspeakable.
Agitated and filled with self-recriminations, Jesse stormed across Lindsey’s yard, hoping with everything in him that Jade was here. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so busy, so deeply enmeshed in the stacks of court records that the time had slipped away and he’d forgotten to pick Jade up from school until she was long gone. What kind of lousy father was he anyway?
