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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blared from a loudspeaker positioned over the gate that opened into the Christmas-tree lot. The smell of pine mingled with the musty scent of Christmas decorations brought out of storage this morning. Though the temperature was in the high thirties, Jesse stripped away his jean jacket and hung the worn garment on the fence next to Lindsey’s red plaid one.
He didn’t have to look around to find the jacket’s owner. Every cell in his body knew she was near—a sensation he found singularly disconcerting, to be sure. Last night, in the midst of a costumed tea party, some subtle shift in their boss/employee relationship had occurred. And Jesse didn’t know if the change was a good thing or a very dangerous one.
From his spot stringing lights on staked poles, he turned to find her just inside the entrance, rubbing dust from a large wooden nativity scene. She’d shared her plans with him for the lot, and though the overwhelming dose of Christmas wasn’t his idea of a good time, Lindsey’s customers would come for this very atmosphere of holiday cheer.
Shoppers would park outside the gate then ride in the horse-drawn wagon down a lane aglow with Christmas lights and dotted with various lighted holiday ornaments: the nativity, a sleigh with reindeer, angels, snowmen. Jesse couldn’t imagine anything she’d forgotten.
Chest tight, whether from watching Lindsey or thinking too much, he turned his concentration to the electrical part of his job. Electricity he knew. Lights he knew. The rest he’d ignore. And as soon as the opportunity arose, he’d kill that music.
“Jesse, could you put more speakers along the drive and down into the lot? I’m not sure we can hear the music all the way.”
His shoulders slumped. So much for killing the tunes. After twisting two wires together, he rose from his haunches and asked, “Wouldn’t my time be better spent cutting and baling those trees we marked this morning?”
She paused, pushed back her hair with one hand and studied him. When those eyes of hers lasered into him he couldn’t do anything but wait until she finished speaking. She had pretty eyes, golden-brown and warm and slightly tilted at the edges like almonds.
“Why do you dislike Christmas?”
He blinked, squeezing hard on the pliers in his fist. “Never said I didn’t like Christmas.”
“Okay, then,” She gave a saucy toss of her head. “Why do you dislike Christmas decorations?”
If the subject weren’t so problematic, he’d have smiled. Lindsey’s way of injecting humor into everything could lift anybody’s mood.
Sushi chose that moment to insinuate her furry self against his legs, almost knocking him into the row of linked-together stakes.
Squatting, he took refuge in the dog, scuffing her ears with both hands. “Did I remember to thank you last night?”
“You just changed the subject.”
He gave a little shrug. “So I did.”
“Okay, I’ll let you off the hook—for now.” She lifted the hair off her neck, a habit of hers that Jesse liked. The movement was so utterly female. Erin had done that. Jade did it sometimes too.
“What are you thanking me for? Or was that just a ruse you use to avoid answering my question?
He shook his head. “No ruse. I owe you big-time.”
“For what?”
She really didn’t know?
“About a dozen things. Looking after Jade until I got here. For supper.”
“Such as it was.” She laughed, letting her hair tumble down. Even without the sunlight, her hair looked shiny and clean.
“I’ve eaten worse than baloney sandwiches and sugar cookies.”
“Don’t forget the fruit.” She tilted a wise man backwards and washed his ancient face. “Last night was fun, Jesse.”
“Yeah.” No point in denying the truth. Rising, he gave Sushi one final stroke. “Most of all, I appreciate your patience with Jade about the dog. I know leaving her outside is a pain.”
Lindsey captured him with her gaze. “I don’t want thanks for that, Jesse. I just want to see Jade confident and unafraid.”
Taking up the next strand of lights waiting to be hung, he sighed. “Me, too.”
“She’ll get there.” The wise man satisfactorily cleaned, she left him and the rest of the nativity. Coming up beside Jesse, she took one end of the lights, holding them in place while he secured them to the poles. “She’s already less fearful than when she first came.”
“I noticed. She didn’t even fuss when I put her to bed last night. She said her guarding angel would watch her sleep.” He glanced toward her, noticed the curve of her cheek and the tilt of her lips, then quickly looked away. “She talked a lot about that.”
“I hope you didn’t mind me telling her.”
He hitched a shoulder, not wanting to go there. “It’s okay. Whatever works.”
Lindsey laid a hand on his arm. “The Bible works because it’s true, Jesse,” she said, her smoky voice soft. “Aren’t you comforted knowing your own special angel watches over you?”
The warmth of her fingers spread through his shirt sleeve. He tried to concentrate on twisting plastic fasteners.
“Can’t say I’ve given it much thought.”
“Maybe you should.” She dropped her hand and went back to straightening the tangle of lights, but her touch stayed with him like a promise made.
Could Lindsey be right? Was there more to this Christian thing than he’d ever realized? Being around her and her church friends, witnessing her steadfast faith and the way she handled the bumps in her life with a certain assurance had him thinking about God with a fresh perspective. As a boy he’d believed, had even accepted Jesus as his savior at church camp when he was twelve. And then life had turned him upside down, and the God of the universe had seemed so far away.
But why would a caring God, a God who assigned each person an angel, take a man’s wife and leave a little girl motherless? Why would He allow a vicious drunk to steal a boy’s home and toss him out on the streets to fend for himself? Where was God in that?
He didn’t know. But more and more lately, he wanted to reconcile Lindsey’s God with the one in his head.
“Silent Night” drifted into his awareness. Lindsey moved away, back to the nativity. Other than the floodlights she’d asked him to rig up, the set looked ready to him. As she adjusted the sheep and fluffed the hay inside the manger, joy practically oozed from her.
Sure she was happy. Why shouldn’t she be? Other than losing her elderly grandparents, Lindsey had probably never had a moment’s heartache in her life. Loving God and exuding tranquility was easy for her.
Frustrated at his line of depressive thinking, he yanked hard on a tangled cord, and turned his mind to more important matters—his search.
They had trees to haul this week which would give him the time and opportunity to ask questions in town. Yesterday at the courthouse he’d slipped up once, expressing to the clerk his interest in the transaction that gave Lindsey’s grandfather ownership of the Christmas Tree Farm. When the woman had looked at him curiously, he’d covered his tracks with vague remarks about Lindsey’s plans for expansion. If only he could talk freely with someone like Clarence or Loraine Stone, the couple who claimed to have known Charlie Mitchell so well. Sooner or later, by biding his time and listening, he’d have his opportunity.
After dusting and organizing the main pieces of the nativity, Lindsey went back to the storage shed for the final figure—the eight-foot-tall animated camel who blinked long-lashed eyes and mooed. She tugged and pulled, careful not to damage the heavy object in the journey across the rough field. Stopping to readjust,