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

Chapter Eight

Jesse was tired, bone-weary. A basket of laundry at his feet, he sat on the plastic couch in his mobile home folding clothes. Jade was in her tiny excuse of a bedroom playing with a small dollhouse borrowed from Lindsey.

After the busy Thanksgiving weekend, he’d worked half of last night, and even though the tree farm was jumping this morning, he’d knocked off at noon. He felt bad about leaving Lindsey alone with the customers, but he had business to attend to.

Then he’d spent hours in the courthouse and on the telephone, leaking out bits of himself to strangers in exchange for information about his stepfather. One conversation had given him the name of a backwoods lawyer who’d been around eighteen years ago. A lawyer with a drinking problem who’d been known to do “buddy deals.” Trouble was, no one remembered where the man had gone when he’d left Winding Stair years ago.

His stomach growled and he tried to remember if he’d eaten today. Probably not. Lindsey usually forced lunch on him, but he’d left too early for that.

He needed answers worse than he needed food. Day after day in Lindsey’s company was starting to scare him. And for all the good she’d done his child, Jade was getting too attached. He had to bring this situation to an end soon.

A sudden knock rattled the entire trailer. Tossing aside a worn towel, he went to answer the door, bristling at the sight of his oversized visitor. Preacher Cliff whatever-his-name-was. No wonder the trailer had shaken under the pounding. So Lindsey had betrayed his confidence and sicced her minister on him. Preparing for an onslaught of unwanted advice, pat answers and sympathy for his loss, he opened the door.

“Hey Jesse, how are you doing?”

Jesse accepted the warm handshake and exchanged greetings. “Come on in.”

Not that he really wanted the preacher in his house, but he didn’t want to upset Lindsey either.

“No, no. I can’t stay. The men are working on the church Christmas display tonight, and Karen threatened not to feed me if I was late to supper.” He gave a hearty laugh and tapped his belly. “Can’t be starving the skinny little preacher.”

In spite of himself, Jesse smiled. It was hard not to like Lindsey’s pastor.

“I hate to bother you with this,” Cliff went on, “but Lindsey tells me you’re a whiz with electrical hookups. Brags to everyone about you. We’re having a bit of trouble at the church getting our display to work right, and she thought you might be willing to have a look.”

Jesse’s first impulse was to say no and slam the door, but the preacher’s words soaked through first. Lindsey bragged about him to other people?

In spite of himself he asked, “Any idea what’s gone wrong?”

“Aw, I don’t know. Clarence and Mick seemed to think the problem is in the breaker box, but we can’t fix it.”

Jesse squinted in contemplation. “Clarence and Mick will be there?”

“They’re at the church right now. That’s why I came by to talk to you. They’re at their wits’ end with this thing.”

Clarence Stone was a man who’d been around a while, a man who might know more about the lawyer, Stuart Hardwick. Spending time in his company, even at a church, could be worth the effort. And he’d seen Mick Thompson several times since the cookout weeks ago and liked the guy. He wasn’t one of those preachy kind of Christians who didn’t know how to get his hands dirty. And their common interest in horses might someday lead to friendship. He’d need a friend when he regained the land that Lindsey now called home.

Ignoring the pinch of regret that grew worse each time he thought of Lindsey’s reaction to losing the farm, he looked at his watch. “I’ll head over there now, see what I can do.”

Cliff clapped Jesse on the shoulder. “Great. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

Jesse knew where Winding Stair Chapel was located and, after collecting Jade and her dolls and making sure his tools were in the truck, drove to the church.

Three other pickups were parked outside the native-rock building. Their owners were scattered around the outside of the church at various projects. They’d set up a life-sized nativity and lined the railed walkway from the parking area to the entrance with luminaries. The two huge evergreens standing sentry on each corner of the lot had been draped with lights, and the outline of an enormous star rose high over the chapel. A man wearing a leather tool belt balanced on the roof, laboring over the star.

The men had gone to a lot of trouble, and from the looks of things, they were far from finished.

He was surprised to find himself here, at a church. Not that he didn’t believe in God, but part of him wondered if God believed in him. He’d felt empty for such a long time.

“Man, are we glad to see you,” Mick Thompson called as soon as Jesse and Jade exited the pickup. “Help’s on the way, boys,” he bellowed to the remaining men. “Lindsey’s expert is here.”

Lindsey’s expert? The friendly greeting buoyed Jesse. As tired as he was, he wanted to help if possible. “I’ll do what I can. What’s the main trouble?”

Clarence Stone waved his arms at a latticework of electrical circuitry spread over the churchyard. “Everything. We’re all hooked up, cords and wires are run, but the angels won’t flutter and Baby Jesus won’t shine.”

Jesse squelched his amusement at the old man’s joking manner.

“Show me your electrical setup and where all the breakers are. I have my tester and tool pouch in the truck. Maybe we can find the source of the problem and work from there.”

Boots crunching across the gravel drive, 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?”