young woman to live out here all alone and become a Christmas-tree farmer?”
The corners of her eyes crinkled in amusement as she wiped her fingers on her jeans. Jesse’s stomach did that clenching thing again.
“I didn’t exactly plan to be a Christmas-tree farmer. It just happened. Or maybe the Lord led me in this direction.” One hand gripping the chain support, she tapped a foot against the porch and set the swing in motion. “My parents are in the military so we moved around a lot. When I was fourteen—” she paused to allow a wry grin. “Let’s just say I was not an easy teenager.”
Surprised, Jesse swiveled all the way around, bringing one boot up to the top step. Lindsey was always so serene, so at peace. “I can’t see you causing anyone any trouble.”
“Believe me, I did. Dad and Mom finally sent me here to live with my grandparents. They thought stability, the same school, the country atmosphere and my grandparents’ influence would be good for me. They were right.”
“So you didn’t grow up here?” Now he was very interested.
Lindsey shook her head, honey-colored hair bouncing against her shoulders, catching bits of light that spun it into gold. Odd that he would notice such a thing.
“Actually none of my family is originally from around here. My grandparents bought this farm after they retired. Gramps began the Christmas Tree Farm as a hobby because he loved Christmas and enjoyed sharing it with others.”
Jesse decided to steer the conversation toward her grandparents and their purchase of the farm, feeling somewhat better to know Lindsey had not been involved in what had happened eighteen years ago.
“How long did your grandparents own this place?”
“Hmm.” Her forehead wrinkled in thought. “I’m not sure. They’d probably been here three or four years when I came. I’ve lived here nearly fifteen years.”
Jesse did the math in his head. The time frame fit perfectly. He rotated the Coke can between his palms then tapped it against his upraised knee. So her grandfather had been the one.
“Did you have any idea who your grandfather bought this place from?” As soon as he asked, Jesse wanted his words back. The question was too suspicious, too far off the conversation, but if Lindsey noticed she said nothing.
“I haven’t a clue. All I know is after Granny passed away, Gramps put the farm and everything on it into my name. By then, I wanted to live here forever, so other than bringing me to a faith in Jesus, this was the greatest gift they could have given me.”
The too-familiar tug of guilt irritated Jesse. He had no reason to feel bad for her. She’d enjoyed the benefit of living here for years while he’d wandered around like a lost sheep. Only during his too-short time with Erin had he ever found any of the peace that hovered over Lindsey like a sweet perfume. And he was counting on this farm to help him find that feeling again.
“So you became a tree farmer like your grandfather.”
Stretching backward, Lindsey ran both hands through the top of her hair, lifted the sides, and let them drift back down again. Jesse found the motion as natural and appealing as the woman herself.
“I tried other things. Went to college. Became a lab tech. Then Sean and I—” She paused, and two spots of color stained her cheekbones. “Let’s just say something happened in my personal life. So, when Gramps passed away three years ago, I couldn’t bring myself to let the tree farm go. After that first year of doing all the things he’d taught me and of watching families bond as they chose that perfect Christmas tree, I understood that this was where my heart is.”
Though curious about the man she’d mentioned, Jesse decided to leave the subject alone. Knowing about her love life would only make his task more difficult. “So you gave up your job to dedicate all your time to the farm.”
“I still take an occasional shift at the hospital and fill in for vacations in the summer to keep my skills sharp or to put a little extra money in the bank. But this is my life. This is what I love. And unless economics drive me out of business, I’ll raise Christmas trees right here on Gramps’ farm forever.”
Though she couldn’t possibly know his thoughts, to Jesse the announcement seemed like a challenge. Averting his eyes, he ripped off a piece of sandwich and tossed the bit of bread and ham to the dog.
Sushi thumped her tail in thanks.
“You spoil her more than I do.”
“Yeah.” He pointed his soda can toward the north. “We have visitors.”
A flock of geese carved a lopsided V against the sky, honking loudly enough to rival a rush-hour traffic jam.
“They’re headed to my pond.”
“And then to a vacation in Florida.”
Lindsey laughed and drew her knees up under her chin. “Watching them makes me feel lazy.”
“What’s on for this afternoon now that we’ve cleared that new plot of land?”
“Tomorrow we’ll need to go over to Mena and pick up the saplings I’ve ordered. So this afternoon I thought we’d get ready for the wienie roast.”
“Who’s having a wienie roast?”
“I am. Well, my church actually, but since I have such a great place for it, complete with a horse to give wagon rides, I host the party out here every fall. I hope you and Jade will come.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” In truth, the idea of hanging out with a bunch of church people made him sweat. He’d played that scene before, for all the good it had done him in the end.
“Trust me, after you drag brush for the campfire, whittle a mountain of roasting sticks and set up tables, chairs and hay bales, you will have earned a special place at this function.”
“I don’t know, Lindsey. I’m not sure I would fit in.”
Dropping her feet to the porch floor, Lindsey leaned forward, face earnest, hair swinging forward, as she reached out to touch his arm.
“Please, Jesse. Jade would have so much fun. And having a little fun now and then wouldn’t hurt you either.”
He was beginning to weaken. A wienie roast was not the same as going to church. And Jade would love roasting marshmallows over a campfire. More than that, it was high time he got moving on his mission.
Lindsey’s words echoed his thoughts. “Winding Stair is full of good people. The party would be a great opportunity for you to get acquainted with some of them.”
She was right about that. He needed to get friendly with the townsfolk. But not for the reasons she had in mind. He gulped the rest of his cola, taking the burn all the way to his stomach.
Somebody in this town had to know what had happened eighteen years ago. The more people trusted him, the sooner he could have his answers—and the sooner he and Jade could take possession of this farm.
Likely no one would remember him. Les Finch had not been a friendly man, and they’d kept to themselves
