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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 the breakers are. I have my tester and tool pouch in the truck. Maybe we can find the source of the problem and work from there.”
Boots crunching across the gravel drive, Mick motioned toward the lighted building. “My wife is in the Sunday school preparing next week’s lesson. Your little girl can play with my kids if she wants to. Clare will keep an eye on her while you’re busy.”
Jade jumped at the chance and was taken inside by the giant preacher who’d wheeled in behind Jesse. It did Jesse’s heart good to see Jade willing to be out of his sight for a few minutes.
“Breaker box is in the church office,” Clarence said and led Jesse down the long hall to the back of the church. To Jesse, the older man’s presence and eager conversation was a stroke of good luck.
“The tree farm hopping yet?” Clarence asked as Jesse stepped up on a ladder to examine the box that housed the breakers. He unscrewed four screws and removed the face plate.
Jesse nodded, concentration riveted more on testing the voltage to the breakers than on the conversation. “We’ve been real busy since Thanksgiving.”
Clarence peered upward, leaning an arm against the rock wall below Jesse. “I reckon Lindsey’s in her element. Never seen a child love Christmas the way she does. Been that way ever since I knew her.”
“How long has that been?” Jesse said the words casually, never taking his eyes off the readings. The breakers had power. The problem was likely in the attic.
“Ever since she moved in with Charlie and Betty Jean. Before that really. I’d see her now and again when she and her folks came to visit.”
“Lindsey thought a lot of her Grandma and Grandpa Mitchell.” He flipped the main breaker to the off position.
“Mitchell?” Clarence stared up at him, puzzled for a moment. “You mean Baker, not Mitchell. Mitchell was the other side of the family. I never knew them. Now Charlie and me, we was good friends. Hauled hay with each other. Things like that.”
As Clarence rattled on about his friendship with Lindsey’s grandfather, the light came on inside Jesse’s head. The volt meter trembled in his fingers as adrenaline zipped through him. No wonder he’d had such a hard time finding data. He’d been looking under the wrong name.
“I suppose the Bakers have owned that farm for generations.” He knew better, but figured tossing the idea out in the open would keep Clarence talking.
“Nah. Charlie bought the place when he retired from the phone company. Let’s see…” Clarence squinted at the ceiling, rubbing his chin. “’Bout twenty years ago, I reckon. Before that a man name of Finch owned it, if memory serves. I didn’t know him too well. Not a friendly sort. Charlie started the tree farm.”
Les Finch. Jesse’s gut clenched. No, his stepfather wasn’t a friendly sort unless a man had a bottle of whiskey or something else he wanted. And he had never owned the farm, either, but he’d wanted everyone to think he did.
Carefully, he guided the subject away from Les Finch. No use helping Clarence remember the boy who’d lived on that farm with the unfriendly Finch.
“I have an idea what the problem is, but I need to get up in the attic.” He looked around, saw the opening and moved the ladder beneath.
Clarence followed along, eager to help and full of chatter, but otherwise basically useless. “Think you can fix it?”
Taking his flashlight from his tool pouch, Jesse shoved the attic door open and poked his head into the dark space above. The problem was right in front of him. “Should have the power up and running in no time.”
Clarence clapped his hands. “Lindsey said you would. She sure thinks highly of you, and that means something to us around here. Lindsey’s like her grandma. Has a heart of gold and will do about anything for anybody. But she don’t trust just everyone. Kinda got a sore spot where that’s concerned.”
A sore spot? Lindsey? Tilting his face downward at the old farmer, curiosity piqued, he asked, “Why do you say that?”
“Well, I reckon you’ll hear it if you stay around here long enough, though I’m not surprised Lindsey didn’t tell you herself. Some things are kinda painful to discuss.”
Jesse concentrated on repairing a ground wire that had been chewed in half by some varmint, likely a squirrel, but every fiber of his being was tuned in to Clarence.
“Some college fella without a lick of sense or decency broke her heart a few years back. Poor little thing come crying home all tore up and hasn’t left that farm for more than a day or two since. Sometimes I think she’s hiding out up there so no one can hurt her again.”
Jesse wrestled with the need to punch something but used his energy to splice the line and wrap the ends with insulated tape. His blood boiled to think of Lindsey crying over some snot-nosed college boy.
“I’ve never noticed anything wrong.” But that wasn’t exactly true. Hadn’t he seen the shadows in her eyes when she talked about wanting a child like Jade? “She seems happy enough.”
“Naturally. She’s got the Lord. I don’t know how folks that don’t know the Lord get by when hard times come.”
Jesse was beginning to wonder that himself.
“I figure she’s over the guy by now.” At least, he hoped so. He collected his tools, placing each one in his pouch.
“No doubt about that. She’s a strong young woman, but the heartache of having her fiancé get some other girl pregnant while she was away making money for the wedding, won’t ever leave her. That’s why I say trust don’t come easy.”
Jesse’s pliers clattered to the tile below. He clenched his fists as anger, swift and hot, bubbled up in him. What kind of low-life would do such a thing? Gentle, loving Lindsey, who gave and helped and never asked for anything in return, shouldn’t have been treated so cruelly. She must have been crushed at such betrayal from the man she loved and trusted.
Clumping down the ladder, he went to the breaker box, insides raging at the injustice. A good woman like Lindsey deserved better.
As he flipped the breaker switch, illuminating the darkening churchyard, the awful truth hit him like a bolt of electricity. Lindsey trusted him, too. And he was going to hurt her almost as much.
Lindsey was happy enough to sing—and so she did—inside the Snack Shack, as she liked to call the small building where she and Jade served hot apple cider and Christmas cookies to their “guests.” Gaily bedecked with holiday cheer, the cozy room boasted a long table where customers could warm up and enjoy the music and atmosphere while Jesse baled their chosen tree and Lindsey rang up their sale.
At present, a family of five occupied the room, admiring Lindsey’s miniature Christmas village while they munched and waited. They’d had their ride through the grove, all of them singing at the top of their lungs, the children so full of excited energy they kept hopping off the wagon to run along beside. Their unfettered cheer delighted Lindsey and had even brightened Jesse’s usually serious countenance.
Jade, catching the good mood, had agreed to let Sushi roam free as long as Jesse was within sight.
Yes, Lindsey’s life was full. Not since before Gramps died had the holidays seemed so merry.
The door flew open and Jesse stepped inside, rubbing his gloveless hands together. A swirl of winter wind followed him. The collar of his fleece-lined jacket turned up, framing his handsome face.
An extra jolt of energy shot through Lindsey. More and more lately, Jesse’s presence caused that inexplicable reaction. With a simple act like walking into a room, he made her world brighter.
Two nights ago he’d solved a problem with the electricity at the church, and she’d been so proud of him. He was smart and resourceful and the hardest, most honest worker anyone could ask for.
“Daddy!” Jade charged from behind the homemade counter where she’d been doling out gingerbread men. “Want a cookie?”
Lindsey grinned. Jade had forced the sweets on him every time he’d entered the building. He never stayed long, just grabbed the cookie and ran. Even though he had been busy with a steady stream of customers all night, she suspected that the holiday atmosphere still bothered him.
“I’m stuffed, Butterbean.” Absently patting her head, he said to the eagerly waiting family, “Your tree’s ready to go. It’s a beauty.”
After giving the kids a few more cookies and the man a set of tree-care instructions, she, Jade and Jesse escorted the family out into the clear, cold night. Together they stood, Jade between them, watching the car pull away. For a moment, as cries of “Merry Christmas” echoed across through the crisp air, Lindsey had the fleeting thought that this is what it would be like if the three of them were a family bidding goodbye to friends after a fun-filled visit.
A gust of wind, like an icy hand, slapped against her.
Flights of fancy were uncharacteristic of someone as practical as she. And yet, here she stood, in the nippy, pine-scented night, behaving as if Jesse and Jade belonged to her. The need for family had never weighed as heavy nor had the longing been so great.
Wise enough to recognize the symptoms, Lindsey struggled to hold her emotions in check, to fight down the rising ache of need. She loved the dark-haired child clinging to her hand. And she had feelings for Jesse, though she refused to give those feelings a name.
Jesse was good help, and he was great company, but they were too different. His grief for his late wife, coupled with his ambivalence toward God, were all the roadblocks the Lord needed to put in her way. She had ignored the signs before. She wouldn’t let herself be that foolish again.
The evening’s pleasure seeped away. Maybe she wasn’t meant to have a family. Maybe the Lord intended her to be alone, growing trees for other families to enjoy, and sharing her maternal love with the children from her church. After the foolish mistakes she’d made with Sean, perhaps the Lord didn’t trust her to make that kind of decision.
Jesse pulled Jade against him to block the wind and tugged her coat closed, though his mind was on Lindsey. He felt her sudden withdrawal as if she’d turned and walked away. When the customers pulled out of the drive she’d been laughing and happy, but now her shoulders slumped, and she stared into the distance like a lost puppy.
“Are you okay?”
“Tired, I guess.” She pulled the hood of her car coat up and snapped the chin strap.
Sure she was tired. Had to be after the long days of hard work they’d been putting in. Though things would settle down after the holidays, this was the busiest time of year for the farm. He knew for a fact she was up every morning with the sun and worked on the books long after he went home. He’d tried to take more of the physical labor on himself, but when he did she added something else to her own chore list. Still, he had a feeling more than exhaustion weighed her down tonight.
“Let’s close up. It’s nearly ten anyway.” They normally locked the gates and cut the lights at ten.
Solemn-faced, she nodded. “I’ll unharness Puddin’ and get him settled.”
As she turned to go, Jesse reached out and caught her elbow. He had the sudden and troublesome yearning to guide her against his chest and ask what was wrong. Not a smart idea, but an enticing one.
“You and Jade take care of things inside,” he said. “I’ll tend to Puddin’ and the outdoor chores.”
The wind whipped a lock of hair from beneath her hood and sent it fluttering across her mouth. Tempted to catch the wayward curl, to feel the silky softness against his skin, Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Come inside and warm up first,” she said, tucking the stray hair back in place. “You’ve been out in this wind all evening.”
So had she for the most part, but he didn’t argue. A warm drink and a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt him and it would please her. Funny how pleasing Lindsey seemed important tonight.
Inside the building, Jesse stood amidst the cheery knickknacks breathing in the scents of cinnamon and pine and apples. The room reeked of Lindsey and the things she enjoyed. If he wanted to stop thinking about her—and he did—here among her decorations was not the place to do it.
Normally, the Snack Shack and all the holiday folderol depressed him, but depression plagued him less and less lately. He’d figured he was just too busy and tired to notice, but now he worried that Lindsey and not fatigue had taken the edge off his sorrow.
To avoid that line of thinking, he gazed around the room at the lighted candles, the holly rings, and all the other festive things that Lindsey loved. Looking at them didn’t hurt so much anymore.
“You ought to put a little gift shop in here.” He didn’t know where that had come from.
“I’ve thought about it, but never had enough help to handle gifts and the trees.” Lindsey was behind the counter helping Jade seal leftover cookies into zip-up bags.
“You should consider the idea.”
“Too late this year. Maybe next.”
Jesse could see the notion, coming from him, pleased her. He had other ideas that would please her, too. Some he’d shared, like the concept of developing a Website for the farm and using the Internet for free marketing. He’d even volunteered to start tinkering with designs after the rush season.
Lifting a glass angel, he turned the ornament in his hands. What was happening to him? Why was he thinking such ridiculous, useless thoughts?
Lindsey didn’t need a Web site or advertising or even a gift shop. This time next year she and her Christmas trees would be long gone. That’s the way it had to be. Justice would be served. He’d have his home…and his revenge.
The tender, loving expression on the angel’s face mocked him. Discomfited, he put the ornament back on the shelf.
