yet. First a job, then Jade and I have a date with the school principal. While she’s in school I’ll find a place to stay.”
“Rental property is scarce around here, but you might check at the Caboose. It’s an old railroad car turned into a diner on the north end of town across from the Dollar Store. Ask for Debbie. If there is any place for rent in the area, she’ll know about it.”
“Thanks.” He stood, took Jade’s empty juice carton and looked around for a trash can.
“I’ll take that.” Lindsey stretched out a palm, accepting the carton. No long fancy nails on those hands, but the short-clipped nails were as clean as a Sunday morning.
“Come on, Jade. Time to roll.” Jade hopped off the couch, tugging at the too-short tail of her T-shirt. The kid was growing faster than he could buy clothes.
Stuffing the last of the gummy fruits into her mouth, she handed the empty wrapper to Lindsey with a shy thank-you smile, then slipped her warm little fingers into his.
“How about if I give you a call later this afternoon,” Jesse asked. “After you’ve had a chance to check those references?”
“That will work.” She followed him to the door.
Jade tugged at him, reaching upward. “Carry me, Daddy.”
He followed the direction of her suddenly nervous gaze. From the front porch the affronted German shepherd peered in through the storm door, tail thumping hopefully against the wooden planks.
Jesse swept his daughter into his arms and out the door, leaving behind a dog that terrified his daughter, a house he coveted and a woman who disturbed him a little too much with her kindness.
He had a very strong feeling that he’d just compounded his already considerable problems.
Chapter Two
Uncertainty crowding her thoughts, Lindsey pushed the storm door open with one hand to let the dog inside though her attention remained on the man. He sauntered with a loose-limbed gait across the sunlit yard, his little girl tossed easily over one strong shoulder like a blanket.
Jesse Slater. The name sounded familiar somehow, but she was certain they’d never met. Even for someone as cautious of the opposite sex as she was, the man’s dark good looks would be hard to forget. Mysterious silver-blue eyes with sadness hovering at the crinkled corners, dark cropped hair above a face that somehow looked even more attractive because he hadn’t yet shaved this morning, and a trim athletic physique dressed in faded jeans and denim jacket over a Western shirt. Oh, yes, he was a handsome one all right. But looks did not impress Lindsey. Not anymore.
Still, she couldn’t get the questions out of her head. Why would a man with no job and a child to raise come to the small rural town of Winding Stair? It would be different if he had relatives here, but he’d mentioned none. Something about him didn’t quite ring true, but she was loath to turn him away. After all, if the Christmas Tree Farm was to survive, she needed help—immediately. And Jesse Slater needed a job. And she’d bet this broad-shouldered man was a hard worker.
The child, Jade, hair hanging down her father’s back like black fringe, looked up and saw that Sushi was now inside, then wiggled against her father to be let down. She slid down the side of his body then skipped toward the late-model pickup.
At the driver’s-side door, Jesse boosted the little girl into the cab and slid inside behind her. Then for the first time he looked up and saw Lindsey standing inside the storm door, watching his departure. He lifted a hand in farewell, though no smile accompanied the gesture. Lindsey, who smiled—and laughed—a lot, wondered if the darkly solemn Jesse had experienced much joy in his life.
The pickup roared to life, then backed out and disappeared down the long dirt drive, swirling leaves and dust into the morning air.
Lindsey, who preferred to think the best of others, tried to shrug off the nagging disquiet. After months of seeking help, she should be thankful, not suspicious, to have a strong, healthy man apply for the job. But the fact that she’d almost given up hope that anyone would be willing to work for the small salary she could afford to pay was part of what raised her suspicions.
She wrestled with her conscience. After all, the poor man had lost his wife and was raising a small daughter alone. Couldn’t that account for his air of mysterious sadness? Couldn’t he be seeking the solitude of the mountains and the quiet serenity of a small town to help him heal? Even though she knew from experience that only time and the Lord could ease the burden of losing someone you love, the beautiful surroundings were a comfort. She knew that from experience too.
Stepping back from the doorway, she stroked one hand across Sushi’s thick fur. “What do you think, girl?”
But she knew the answer to that. Sushi was a very fine judge of character and she hadn’t even barked at the stranger. Nor had she protested when the man had come inside the house while she was relegated to the front porch.
Looking down at the sheet of paper still clutched in one hand, Lindsey studied the names and numbers, then started for the telephone.
“If his references check out, I have to hire him. We need help too badly to send him away just because he’s too good-looking.”
Later that afternoon, Lindsey was kneeling in the tree lot, elbow-deep in Virginia pine trimmings, when Sushi suddenly leaped to her feet and yipped once in the direction of the house.
A car door slammed.
Pushing back her wind-blown hair with a forearm, Lindsey stood, shears in hand and strained her eyes toward the house. A blue Silverado once more sat in her driveway and Jesse Slater strode toward her front door.
Quickly, she laid aside the shears and scrambled out of the rows of pine trees.
Hadn’t the man said he’d call for her decision? What was he doing out here again? Her misgivings rushed to the fore.
“Hello,” she called, once she’d managed to breech the small rise bordering the tree lot. The house was only about fifty yards from the trees, and Sushi trotted on ahead.
Jesse spun on his boot heel, caught sight of her and lifted a hand in greeting.
“No wonder you didn’t answer your phone,” he said when she’d come within speaking distance.
With chagrin, Lindsey realized that it had happened again. While working in the trees, she frequently lost track of time, forgot to eat, forgot about everything except talking to the Lord and caring for the trees. Maybe that’s why she loved the tree farm so much and why she’d been so reluctant to take on a hired hand. While among the trees, she carried on a running conversation with God, feeling closer to Him there than she did anywhere—even in church.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late.” Holding her dirty hands out to her sides, she said, “Why don’t you come on in while I wash up? Then we can talk.”
Jesse, who’d managed to shave somewhere since she’d seen him last, hesitated. “I hate to ask this, but would you mind putting the dog up again? My daughter is with me.”
Lindsey pivoted toward the truck, aware for the first time that a small, worried face pressed
