A Love Inspired Christmas Bundle: In the Spirit of...Christmas / The Christmas Groom / One Golden Christmas

Dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, she rose and joined the pair, asking tentatively, “Would you like Sushi to come out and play?”

“I don’t want to play.”

Before Lindsey had time to express her disappointment, Jade went on. “But she can come out and sit by you.”

At the bedroom door, Lindsey went down in front of the child. “You are such a big girl. I’m so proud of you for being nice to Sushi. She is lonely in there all by herself and she doesn’t understand why she’s locked up.”

Dark hair bouncing, Jade nodded. “I know.”

“We’ll give her this turkey.” She indicated the meat in Jesse’s hand. “And then I’ll pet her a little before letting her out. She might be excited and jump because she’s happy to see us.”

Jade reached both arms toward her father. “Hold me up, Daddy.”

With a sigh that said he didn’t consider this progress, he hoisted his daughter. Lindsey opened the door and commanded, “Sushi, stay.”

The German shepherd, already spring-loaded, wilted in disappointment, but she followed her owner’s command. Tail swishing madly, ears flicking, she waited while Lindsey stroked and murmured encouragements. Once convinced that Sushi’s self-control was intact, she gazed up at Jade.

“She’s all ready for that turkey. Hold it by your fingertips and give it to her.”

Heart thudding with hope, Lindsey told the dog to sit and be gentle.

Worried green eyes shifting from the dog to Lindsey, Jade gathered her courage. When she looked to Jesse, he winked and gave her an encouraging nudge. “Go ahead.”

Taking the poultry, Jade strained forward. Jesse held on tight, face as tense and hopeful as Lindsey’s heart.

As if she understood the child’s dilemma, Sushi waited patiently, and then daintily took the meat between her front teeth.

Jade’s nervous laugh broke the anxious moment. Lindsey hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. As casually as she could while rejoicing over this huge step, she turned back to the kitchen. Sushi’s toenails tapped the floor as she followed. She pointed to a spot far away from Jade, and the dog collapsed in ecstasy.

To her delight, Jade slithered out of Jesse’s arms, unafraid to be on even ground with the animal.

“How about some pecan pie?” Lindsey asked, tilting the pie in their direction.

Jade shook her head. “Can I play with your playhouse?”

She indicated the extra room where Lindsey kept toys and games for her Sunday-school girls.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

As Jade skipped off into the other room, Lindsey lifted an eyebrow toward Jesse. “Pie?”

Jesse patted his flat, muscled stomach. “Too full right now. Later maybe?”

“Later sounds better to me, too. I’m sure there are plenty of football games on if you’d like to watch television while I clean the kitchen.”

“No deal. You cook. I wash.”

Lindsey was shocked at the idea. “You’re my guest. You can’t wash dishes.”

Already rolling up his shirtsleeves, Jesse argued. “Watch me.”

“Then I’m helping, too.” She tossed him an apron, the least frilly one she owned.

He tied it around his slender middle, and in minutes they had the table cleared and water steaming in the old-fashioned porcelain sink.

As Lindsey stacked the dishes on the counter, Jesse washed them. The sight of his strong dark arms plunged into a sink full of white soapsuds did funny things to her insides.

They were down to the turkey roaster when the crunch of tires on gravel turned their attention to visitors.

“Who could that be?” Lindsey asked, placing a dried plate into the cabinet before pushing back the yellow window curtain. “I don’t recognize the vehicle.”

Jesse came up beside her. A hum of awareness prickled the skin on Lindsey’s arms.

“I’ll go out and check.” Her breath made tiny clouds on the cool window. “Could be an early customer.”

Her prediction proved true, and though she normally didn’t open until the day after Thanksgiving, she was too kindhearted to turn them away.

Upon hearing their story, she was glad they’d come.

“Thank you for letting us interrupt your holiday,” the woman said as she watched her children traipse happily through the thick green pines. “We thought decorating the tree before their dad shipped out for the Middle East tomorrow would help the kids. They’ve never had Christmas without him.”

Lindsey placed a hand on the woman’s arm. “It’s us who owe you—and your husband—thanks.”

As they went from tree to tree, discussing the perfect shape and size, Lindsey realized that Jesse and Jade had disappeared. In moments, she knew why. Red and green lights, dim in the bright November sun, flicked on all over the lot. Then the gentle strains of “Away in a Manger” filtered from the stereo speakers Jesse had stretched from the gate into the trees.

When he returned, coming up beside Lindsey with Jade in tow, she couldn’t hold back her gratitude. “Thank you for thinking of that.”

He shrugged off the compliment. “Some people like this stuff.”

But you don’t. What could have happened to turn Jesse into such a Scrooge? She wanted to ask why again, to press him for information, but now, with a customer present, was not the moment.

The family found the perfect tree and Jesse set to work. In no time, the tree was cut, baled, and carefully secured on top of the family’s car. Three exuberant children piled inside the four-door sedan, faces rosy with excitement and cold. The soldier reached for his wallet, but Lindsey held out a hand to stop him.

“No way. The tree is a gift. Enjoy it.”

The man argued briefly, but seeing Lindsey’s stubborn stance, finally gave in. “This means a lot to my family.”

He got inside the car and started the engine.

“Merry Christmas.” Lindsey said, leaning down into the open window. “You’ll be in my prayers.”

With more thanks and calls of Merry Christmas, the family drove away, the Virginia pine waving in the wind.

“That was a real nice thing you did,” Jesse said, his arm resting against hers as they watched the car jounce down the driveway.

“I love to give trees to people like that. What a blessing.”

“You don’t make money giving them away.”