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

“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 sweets on him every time he’d entered the building. He never stayed long, just grabbed the cookie and ran. Even though he had been busy with a steady stream of customers all night, she suspected that the holiday atmosphere still bothered him.

“I’m stuffed, Butterbean.” Absently patting her head, he said to the eagerly waiting family, “Your tree’s ready to go. It’s a beauty.”

After giving the kids a few more cookies and the man a set of tree-care instructions, she, Jade and Jesse escorted the family out into the clear, cold night. Together they stood, Jade between them, watching the car pull away. For a moment, as cries of “Merry Christmas” echoed across through the crisp air, Lindsey had the fleeting thought that this is what it would be like if the three of them were a family bidding goodbye to friends after a fun-filled visit.

A gust of wind, like an icy hand, slapped against her.

Flights of fancy were uncharacteristic of someone as practical as she. And yet, here she stood, in the nippy, pine-scented night, behaving as if Jesse and Jade belonged to her. The need for family had never weighed as heavy nor had the longing been so great.

Wise enough to recognize the symptoms, Lindsey struggled to hold her emotions in check, to fight down the rising ache of need. She loved the dark-haired child clinging to her hand. And she had feelings for Jesse, though she refused to give those feelings a name.

Jesse was good help, and he was great company, but they were too different. His grief for his late wife, coupled with his ambivalence toward God, were all the roadblocks the Lord needed to put in her way. She had ignored the signs before. She wouldn’t let herself be that foolish again.

The evening’s pleasure seeped away. Maybe she wasn’t meant to have a family. Maybe the Lord intended her to be alone, growing trees for other families to enjoy, and sharing her maternal love with the children from her church. After the foolish mistakes she’d made with Sean, perhaps the Lord didn’t trust her to make that kind of decision.

Jesse pulled Jade against him to block the wind and tugged her coat closed, though his mind was on Lindsey. He felt her sudden withdrawal as if she’d turned and walked away. When the customers pulled out of the drive she’d been laughing and happy, but now her shoulders slumped, and she stared into the distance like a lost puppy.

“Are you okay?”

“Tired, I guess.” She pulled the hood of her car coat up and snapped the chin strap.

Sure she was tired. Had to be after the long days of hard work they’d been putting in. Though things would settle down after the holidays, this was the busiest time of year for the farm. He knew for a fact she was up every morning with the sun and worked on the books long after he went home. He’d tried to take more of the physical labor on himself, but when he did she added something else to her own chore list. Still, he had a feeling more than exhaustion weighed her down tonight.

“Let’s close up. It’s nearly ten anyway.” They normally locked the gates and cut the lights at ten.

Solemn-faced, she nodded. “I’ll unharness Puddin’ and get him settled.”

As she turned to go, Jesse reached out and caught her elbow. He had the sudden and troublesome yearning to guide her against his chest and ask what was wrong. Not a smart idea, but an enticing one.

“You and Jade take care of things inside,” he said. “I’ll tend to Puddin’ and the outdoor chores.”

The wind whipped a lock of hair from beneath her hood and sent it fluttering across her mouth. Tempted to catch the wayward curl, to feel the silky softness against his skin, Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Come inside and warm up first,” she said, tucking the stray hair back in place. “You’ve been out in this wind all evening.”

So had she for the most part, but he didn’t argue. A warm drink and a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt him and it would please her. Funny how pleasing Lindsey seemed important tonight.

Inside the building, Jesse stood amidst the cheery knickknacks breathing in the scents of cinnamon and pine and apples. The room reeked of Lindsey and the things she enjoyed. If he wanted to stop thinking about her—and he did—here among her decorations was not the place to do it.

Normally, the Snack Shack and all the holiday folderol depressed him, but depression plagued him less and less lately. He’d figured he was just too busy and tired to notice, but now he worried that Lindsey and not fatigue had taken the edge off his sorrow.

To avoid that line of thinking, he gazed around the room at the lighted candles, the holly rings, and all the other festive things that Lindsey loved. Looking at them didn’t hurt so much anymore.

“You ought to put a little gift shop in here.” He didn’t know where that had come from.

“I’ve thought about it, but never had enough help to handle gifts and the trees.” Lindsey was behind the counter helping Jade seal leftover cookies into zip-up bags.

“You should consider the idea.”

“Too late this year. Maybe next.”

Jesse could see the notion, coming from him, pleased her. He had other ideas that would please her, too. Some he’d shared, like the concept of developing a Website for the farm and using the Internet for free marketing. He’d even volunteered to start tinkering with designs after the rush season.

Lifting a glass angel, he turned the ornament in his hands. What was happening to him? Why was he thinking such ridiculous, useless thoughts?

Lindsey didn’t need a Web site or advertising or even a gift shop. This time next year she and her Christmas trees would be long gone. That’s the way it had to be. Justice would be served. He’d have his home…and his revenge.

The tender, loving expression on the angel’s face mocked him. Discomfited, he put the ornament back on the shelf.