LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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