In the Spirit of...Christmas and A Very Special Delivery: In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Very Special Delivery. Linda Goodnight
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Debbie nodded, her orange pumpkin earrings dancing in the firelight. “He’s still a little shell-shocked, I’m afraid. Finances are so tight already with the three we have, but he’ll come around.”
“You and Tom are such great parents. This baby will be the darling of the bunch, you wait and see. God always knows what He’s doing.”
“You’re right, I know, but it’s still a shock.” Looking around, she spotted Tom across the way. “I think I’ll go over and let the daddy-to-be pamper me awhile.”
Lindsey watched her friend snag another cookie as she sashayed around to the opposite side of the campfire where her husband waited. A twinge of envy pinched at her as she gazed at the group gathered on her farm. They were mostly couples and families, people who shared their lives with someone else. Even the teenagers paired up or hung together in mixed groups going through the age-old ritual of finding a partner.
Lindsey loved these people, liked attending functions with them, but times such as these made her more aware than ever of how alone she was.
To shake off the unusual sense of melancholy, Lindsey found a roasting stick and went in search of a frankfurter to roast. She had too much to be thankful for to feel sorry for herself. She’d chosen to live in this remote place away from her family where there were few unattached men her age. If the Lord intended for her to have a mate, He’d send one her way.
An unexpected voice intruded on her thoughts.
“Could you spare two of those for a couple of fashionably late strangers?”
A pair of solemn silver eyes, aglow in the flickering firelight, met hers.
Her heart gave a strange and altogether inappropriate lurch of pleasure.
Jesse was here.
Jesse stared into Lindsey’s delighted eyes and wished he was anywhere but here. From the minute he’d left the farm, he had struggled with a rising desire not to return. Except for his promise to Jade, he wouldn’t have. He no more belonged with Lindsey and her holy church friends than he belonged in Buckingham Palace with the queen.
Jade gripped his leg, eyes wide as she watched children running in wild circles outside the perimeter of the firelight.
“You didn’t think we were coming, did you?” he said to Lindsey.
She handed him a roasting stick, eyebrows lifted in an unspoken question. “I was beginning to wonder if something had happened.”
The open-ended statement gave him the opportunity to explain, but he let the moment pass. His life was his business. Lindsey’s gentle way of pulling him in, including him, was already giving him enough trouble.
“We brought marshmallows.” Jade’s announcement filled the gap in conversation. She thrust the bag toward Lindsey.
“Cool. Let’s eat a hotdog first and then we’ll dig into these.” Lindsey placed the bag on the table and took a wiener from a pack. “Do you want to roast your own?”
Jade pulled back, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. The fire might burn me.”
“How about if I help you?” Lindsey slid the hotdog onto the stick and held it out.
Jesse could feel the tension in his child’s small fingers. Her anxiety over every new experience worried him. He squatted down in front of her. “It’s okay. Lindsey won’t let you get hurt.”
Indecision laced with worry played over his daughter’s face. Lindsey, with her innate kindness, saw the dilemma. Jade wanted the fun of roasting the hotdog, but couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone other than him. Jesse hid a sigh.
“This hotdog will taste better if Daddy cooks it. Isn’t that right, sugar?” Lindsey said, handing him the loaded stick. “I’ll grab another.”
Squatting beside Lindsey with Jade balanced between his knees, Jesse thrust the franks into the flames. Jade rested a tentative hand just behind his.
More than anything Jesse longed to see Jade as confident and fearless as other six-year-olds. Deep inside, he was convinced that regaining his inheritance, giving her a stable home environment and surrounding her with familiar people and places would solve Jade’s problem. Tonight he hoped to take another step in that direction.
Letting his gaze drift around the campfire, Jesse studied the unfamiliar faces. Somebody here must have known Lindsey’s grandparents and probably even his stepfather. Some self-righteous churchgoer standing out there in the half darkness sucking down a hotdog might have even been involved in the shady deal that had left him a homeless orphan.
“Everyone here is anxious to meet you,” Lindsey said, her voice as smoky and warm as the hickory fire.
Given the train of his thoughts, Jesse shifted uncomfortably. “Checking out the new guy to make sure you’re safe with me?”
The remark came out harsher, more defensive than he’d planned.
Serene brown eyes probing, Lindsey said, “Don’t take offense, Jesse. This is a small town. They only want to get acquainted, to be neighborly.”
He blamed the fire and not his pinch of guilt for the sudden warmth in his face. She was too kind and he wished he’d followed his gut instinct and stayed at the cramped little trailer.
“Here you go, Butterbean.” Taking the hotdog from the flames, he went to the table for buns and mustard. Lindsey and Jade followed.
One of the biggest men he’d ever seen handed him a paper plate. “You must be Jesse.”
Lindsey made the introductions. “This is my pastor, Cliff Wilson.”
Jesse’s surprise must have shown because the clergyman bellowed a cheerful laugh. “If you were out killing preachers, you’d pass me right up, wouldn’t you?”
Cliff looked more like a pro wrestler than a preacher. A blond lumberjack of a man in casual work clothes and tennis shoes with blue eyes as gentle and guileless as a child’s and a face filled with laughter.
“Good to meet you, sir,” Jesse said stiffly, not sure how to react to the unorthodox minister.
“Everyone calls me Pastor Cliff or just plain Cliff.” The preacher offered a beefy hand which Jesse shook. “You from around this area?”
“Enid.” Giving his stock answer, Jesse concentrated on squirting mustard onto Jade’s hotdog. No way he’d tell any of them the truth—that he’d roamed this very land as a youth.
“Lindsey says you’re heaven-sent, a real help to her.”
“I’m glad for the work.” He handed the hotdog to Jade, along with a napkin. “Lindsey’s a fair boss.”
By now at least a half dozen other men had sidled up to the table for introductions and food refills. Jesse felt like a bug under a magnifying glass, but if he allowed his prickly feelings to show, people might get suspicious. He needed their trust, though he didn’t want to consider how he’d eventually use that trust against one of their own.
“A fair boss? Now that’s a good ’un.” A short, round older man in a camouflage jacket offered the joking comment. “That girl works herself into the ground just like her grandpa did. I figure she expects the same from her hired help.”
Jesse stilled, attention riveted. This fellow knew Lindsey’s grandparents and was old enough to have been around Winding Stair for some time. He just might know the details Jesse needed to begin searching the courthouse records.
“Now Clarence.” Eyes twinkling a becoming gold in the flickering light, Lindsey pointed a potato chip at the speaker. “You stop that before you scare off the only steady worker I’ve ever had.”
“Ah, he knows I’m only kidding.” Clarence aimed a grin toward Jesse. “Don’t you, son?” Before