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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on the corners. “That’s right, Jesse. Give Clarence a holler. He’ll come down and talk your ears off while you do all the work.”
Clarence didn’t seem the least bit offended. He grinned widely.
“This here wise guy is Mick Thompson,” he said with affection. “Mick has a ranch east of town, though if it wasn’t for that sweet little wife of his, he’d have gone under a long time ago.”
Mick laughed, teeth white in his dark face. “I have to agree with you there, Clarence, even if Clare is your daughter. I wouldn’t be much without her.”
Jesse’s mind registered the relationship along with the fact that Mick owned a ranch. Now that was something Jesse understood.
“You raise horses on that ranch of yours?” he asked, making casual conversation while hoping to turn the conversation back to Lindsey’s grandparents.
“Sure do. You know horses?” Mick sipped at his plastic cup.
“I’ve done a little rodeo. Bronc-riding mostly.”
“No kidding?” Mick’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Ever break any colts?”
“Used to do a lot of that sort of work.” Before Erin died. But he wouldn’t share that with Mick.
“Would you like to do it again?”
“I wouldn’t mind it.” He missed working with rough stock, and breaking horses on the side would put some much-needed extra money in his pocket.
“Don’t be trying to hire him away from Lindsey, Mick,” the jovial Clarence put in. “She’ll shoot you. And I’ll be left to support your wife and kids.”
“You’d shoot me yourself if you thought Clare and the kids would move back up in those woods with you and Loraine.”
Both men chuckled, and despite himself, Jesse enjoyed their good-natured ribbing.
Lindsey, having drifted off in conversation with a red-haired woman, missed the teasing remark. Without her present, Jesse wanted to turn the conversation back to her grandfather, but wasn’t sure how to go about it without causing suspicion.
“Tell you what, Jesse,” Mick said, stroking his mustache with thumb and forefinger. “When you have some time, give me a call. I have a couple of young geldings that need breaking, and I can’t do it anymore. Bad back.”
Were all the people of Winding Stair this trusting that they’d offer a man a job without ever seeing him work?
“How do you know I can handle the job?”
Mick’s mustache quirked. “Figure you’d say so if you didn’t think you could.”
“I can.”
“See?” Mick clapped him on the back and clasped his hand in a brief squeeze. “My number’s in the book. And I pay the going rate.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I doubt I can get loose from here until after the holidays.”
The familiar sense of dread crawled through his belly. He’d much rather be tossed in the dirt by a bucking horse than spend one minute in Lindsey’s tree lot. He’d counted on the old adage that familiarity breeds indifference. So far, that hadn’t proven true. If anything, he dreaded the coming weeks more than ever.
Mick sipped at his soda before saying, “After Christmas is fine with me. Those colts aren’t going anywhere. Meantime, if you need help hauling these trees, let me know. I got a flatbed settin’ over there in my barn rustin’.”
“He sure does,” Clarence teased. “And it would do him good to put in a full day’s work for a change.”
An unbidden warmth crept through Jesse. Offers of help from friends didn’t come too often, but this offhand generosity of strangers was downright unsettling.
“Jade, Jade.” Two little girls about Jade’s age came running up and interrupted the conversation. One on each side, they grabbed her hands and pulled. “Come play tag.”
She looked to Jesse for approval. “Can I, Daddy?”
“Don’t you want to finish your hotdog?”
“I’m full.” She handed him the last bite of the squeezed and flattened sandwich.
He downed the remains and wiped the mustard off her face. “Go on and play.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come with me.”
Jesse shook his head, standing his ground for once. “I haven’t finished my own hotdog. I’ll be here when you get back. Promise.”
After a moment of uncertainty, the desire to play with her friends won out.
Jesse’s heart gladdened to see his little girl race away with the other children for once instead of clinging to his leg like a barnacle.
Biting into his smoky hotdog, Jesse watched and listened, hoping for an opportunity to casually probe for information. His attention strayed to the gregarious preacher.
Pastor Cliff seemed to be everywhere, laughing, joking and making sure everyone had a great time. The teenagers flocked around him as though he was some football star, begging him to join their games, occasionally pelting him with a marshmallow to gain his attention. Punctuating the air with a few too many “praise the Lords” for Jesse’s comfort, the preacher nonetheless came across like a regular guy. He’d even overheard Cliff promise to help repair someone’s leaky roof next week. The big man sure wasn’t like any minister Jesse had ever encountered.
“When are we taking that wagon ride, Lindsey?” Cliff bellowed, indicating a small boy perched on his shoulders. “Nathaniel says he’s ready when you are.”
“Do you kids want the tractor or the horse to pull us?” Lindsey called back.
“The horse. The horse,” came a chorus of replies from all but the preacher.
Jesse knew the big, powerful horse stood nearby inside a fenced lot, his oversized head hanging over the rails, waiting his opportunity. The animal liked people and was gentle as a baby.
“How about you, Cliff? What’s your preference?” A man called, his face wreathed in mischief.
The oversized preacher waved his upraised hands in mock terror. “Now, Tom, you know I don’t mess with any creature that’s bigger than me.”
“Which wouldn’t be too many, Cliff,” came the teasing answer.
Everyone laughed, including Cliff, though the joke was on him. Grudgingly, Jesse admired that. The minister he’d known would have seen the joke as an offense to his lofty position.
“You’re out-voted, preacher,” Lindsey called, starting toward the gate. “I’ll get Puddin’.”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket, Jesse fell into step beside her. Though mingling with the church crowd provided opportunities to gather information, he needed some distance. He hadn’t expected their friendliness, the ease with which they accepted him, and most of all, he’d not expected them to be such everyday, normal people. Lindsey’s church family, as she called them, was fast destroying his long-held view of Christians as either stiff and distant or pushy and judgmental.
“Need any help?” he asked.
She withdrew a small flashlight from inside her jacket, aimed the beam toward the gate, and whistled softly. “I put his harness on earlier. All I need to do is hook the traces to the wagon.”
Jesse stepped into the light and raised the latch. In seconds the big horse lumbered up to nuzzle at his owner while she snapped a lead rope onto his halter. Together they led him toward the waiting wagon.
“He’s a nice animal.” Jesse ran a hand over the smooth, warm horseflesh, enjoying the feel again after too much time away from the rodeo. “What