Silent Night in Dry Creek

Although, she had to admit, they might have misjudged on this one. The man before her didn’t look like someone who needed a handout. She had pictured him with the watery, timid eyes of someone who was ashamed of needing help. Instead, he almost bristled with pride. And, here she’d contributed six perfectly good dollars to the collection for him.

“I haven’t taken a handout since I was a kid,” the man said, and then pressed his lips together. “No reason to start again now.”

“Well, I’m sure you can work enough to earn it if you want,” Jasmine said. “There are still some parts left in the pageant. King Herod, for one. And you could coach me if you would just unbend a little and relax about it.”

The man grunted. “Unbend? You should be worrying about things breaking instead of them bending. The church should get one of those mannequins to swing around up there for an angel.”

Jasmine blinked. “A mannequin can’t proclaim anything.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s your funeral.”

He wasn’t suggesting it was dangerous, was he? She’d seen the pulley system; it was sturdy enough to swing an elephant across the barn.

The man’s face didn’t change, but he did lift his coffee cup for a drink.

Jasmine bit back her words. He was nothing like she’d expected. She wondered if God had sent him to her as some kind of a test. She secretly thought God should be a little choosier about who He let into His family, so she couldn’t fault Him if He wanted to see what she would do when provoked.

“Wade here is Clarence Sutton’s grandson,” the sheriff finally said in the silence.

Jasmine summoned up a polite smile and looked at the man. “You must be staying out with your grandfather then.”

“Not likely.” The man’s eyes flared for a second and then turned cold.

Apparently that scowl ran in the family along with his rather anti-social attitude. No one could accuse the elder Mr. Sutton of being neighborly, either. He lived next door to her father and the men had feuded for years. Still, Jasmine kept the smile on her face.

“He’ll be spending the night at my place,” the sheriff injected smoothly. “I expect he’d like to see some of the countryside while he’s here, though. I figure he might as well drive out and pick you up for dinner. If that’s all right?”

The sheriff smiled again.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to do that.” She wanted to talk to the man about the role of the angel, but she could do that in a few minutes. She didn’t need any more time with him than was necessary, especially since he was so disagreeable. And arrogant. A man like him would probably think he was on a date with her if he drove her anywhere.

“You can’t be riding that motorcycle at night,” the sheriff continued. “I’d have to ticket you for not having your backlights working and Barbara would be upset with me. It could ruin the whole dinner. Besides, it might rain. Riding with Wade will at least keep you dry.”

Everyone was quiet again.

“I might be able to borrow Edith’s car,” Jasmine finally said. Ever since Edith had gotten married for the second time, she didn’t drive her old car very much. Sometimes the car wouldn’t start right away, but Jasmine could get out and push it until it did if she had to.

“I can drive you,” Wade said, and then added, “It’d be my pleasure.”

He didn’t sound like it would be his pleasure and that made Jasmine feel better. It definitely wouldn’t be a date if neither one of them wanted it to be. And it was a cold night to be pushing a car. Maybe the test God was sending her was to see if she had the sense to stay out of the rain.

“I guess it’d be okay,” she agreed.

At least the man didn’t have bad breath or anything. And he nodded like he was a sensible person when he wasn’t scowling. He might not want to tell her how he’d managed to give such a spectacular performance in the pageant, but if he sat next to her long enough, he might say something about it out of sheer boredom since she didn’t plan to put any effort into making conversation with him.

The sheriff beamed at her. “I’m glad you stopped by. It reminds me that I need to invite Edith and Charley, too. Barbara wanted to have the two of you and another couple to balance out her table. Some notion she got watching Martha Stewart on television.”

“Oh.” Jasmine set her coffee cup down on the table. If the sheriff’s wife was watching good old Martha, Jasmine needed to find a hostess gift before she went. She was sadly lacking in homemaking skills, but gift-giving was something important in prison, too, so she’d learned the value of that. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”

Wade watched the woman flee from the café before he turned back to his friend. “Are you happy now? You’ve pretty much scared her away, making her think she’s agreed to be a couple with me.”

“Oh, she’d never think that. The women have her paired up with Conrad.”

“Conrad?” Wade frowned.

“Nelson,” the sheriff added. “Edith’s his aunt now that she married Charley.”

Wade remembered a kid by that name. He came to town during the summers to visit the Nelsons. Wade didn’t think much of a man who relied on his aunt for matchmaking. “He doesn’t seem like much of a go-getter in the romance department.”

The sheriff snorted. “You should talk. I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger.”

Wade glared at his friend.

“Besides, I’m helping you set up your cover,” the sheriff continued like he hadn’t noticed Wade’s look. “Lonely grandson comes home to be with his grandfather for the holidays. I can hear the Christmas bells ringing already.”

“I don’t need a cover.” Wade gritted his teeth. “There’s no reason to follow that woman around. I’m going home tomorrow.”

Wade felt hollow the second he said the last. Who was he kidding? He never really thought of his apartment in Idaho Falls as home. His furniture was rented and all that the refrigerator ever held were takeout cartons and a few bottles of soft drinks and water. Half of the time he didn’t even get his mail before someone made off with it, not that he had much to steal except pizza flyers and catalogs. All of which had been fine with him until he spent a few hours in Dry Creek again. Now he felt an old stirring, telling him there should be more to a man’s life than what he had.

“I don’t know,” the sheriff said thoughtfully, and for the first time Wade saw real concern on his friend’s face. “If she hadn’t gotten that postcard last week, I wouldn’t be worried.”

Wade waited for more, but nothing came.

“Nobody dies from a postcard,” he finally said.

The sheriff looked at Wade for a minute. “You remember Lonnie Denton? Shot a gas station attendant in Missoula twelve years ago?”

Wade nodded. “Almost killed the kid behind the counter. All for sixty-two dollars and change. I know a couple of the officers that finally picked him up.”

“Well, Denton was Jasmine’s boyfriend.”

Wade whistled. He hadn’t seen that coming.

“It was the only job she pulled with him and she called the ambulance that saved the kid’s life,” the sheriff continued. “She still got ten years prison time, though. Just got out a year or so ago.”

That explained the walk, Wade thought. A woman had to be tough in prison.

“The postcard she got was from Denton.”

Suddenly, the sheriff had all of Wade’s attention. “I’m surprised they’d let him write to her—since they were in it together.”

“He used a fake name for her. But he sent it to Dry Creek and she knew it was hers. She picked it up out of the general delivery mail on the hardware store counter. She showed it to me right away. Told me she didn’t want me to think she was hiding anything. Said she’d sent him a pamphlet about the glories of heaven and this is what she got in return. I could see she was shaken, too. He said he’d see her soon.”

Wade was quiet for a minute. He didn’t like the thought of Jasmine worrying about the soul of a man like that. Not that he was overjoyed about the boyfriend angle, either. “I don’t suppose Lonnie is up for parole or anything?”

The sheriff shook his head. “I found out where he was doing his time and called a guy I know who works at the prison, the one west of Phoenix. He said Lonnie had a seven-year stretch to go.”

“I guess some people might say soon and mean seven years,” Wade said.

“Maybe.”

Wade had been an investigator for a long time. Partners in crime often stayed together. Something told him the woman was too perfect. She was trying too hard. And she was clearly nervous around him. All of that chatter about his part in that old pageant was probably just an attempt to distract him from her past. “How well do you know this Jasmine? Did you ever think maybe she and Lonnie are getting ready to pull another job and that’s why he wrote to her? Maybe she’s here to make plans.”

“Jasmine served her time.” The sheriff’s tone was final.

“She wouldn’t be the first one to be sent back to prison. Some folks find it hard to make it on the outside. Even getting a job can be a challenge.” Wade stopped. “She does have a job, doesn’t she?”

“She sure does. She works for Conrad in that mechanic shop of his. It’s only part-time for now, but she’s also keeping house for Elmer so she keeps busy.”

“Isn’t that convenient? Her working for her father and the man she’s planning to marry—”

“Oh, she hasn’t even gone out on a date with Conrad,” the sheriff said. “And, whatever you do, don’t tell the women I said they’re thinking in that direction. My wife probably shouldn’t have even told me. They don’t want to scare her off.”

Wade wondered what the women in this town thought it would take to scare a thief away from the full cashbox of a local business that was doing well enough to actually have employees. This Conrad fellow might not know it, but he was a target. Dry Creek wasn’t Wade’s town anymore, but he hated to see innocent folks being set up for robbery. He looked around. “I don’t see a cash register here. I suppose the waitresses keep the money in the back?”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re not accusing Jasmine of something.”

Wade shrugged. “I’m being careful, that’s all. Just because she’s out of prison doesn’t mean she didn’t do what put her there in the first place.”

The sheriff grunted and looked over his shoulder. “Just keep your suspicions to yourself. The women in this town will have my badge if they hear I let you get away with that kind of talk. Besides, Jasmine told me about the postcard. She wouldn’t do that if she was planning something.”

Wade picked his hat up from the seat beside him. “The real message Lonnie sent was probably in code so it wouldn’t matter if you did read it. And she probably figured you would find out about the postcard and she told you so you wouldn’t think anything of it. She was just playing it safe. That’s all.”

“But the people in Dry Creek like Jasmine.”

Some people had probably liked Al Capone, too. “Of course, they like her. Nobody plans a robbery by going around making themselves unpopular with folks. It attracts too much attention. People watch unfriendly people. They write down the license plate number for their car. They remember where they’ve seen them. No, nice is a much better cover if you’re up to something.”

“I think you’ve been in this business too long. Nobody is planning anything.”

“Does Elmer still have that fancy white Cadillac car of his?”

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “That car is old as the hills by now. No self-respecting criminal would want to steal it.”

“Well, let’s hope not,” Wade said as he pushed his chair back.

“She joined the church, too, you know,” the sheriff added.

Wade nodded. That’s just what someone would do if they wanted to gain people’s trust, but he couldn’t say that to Carl. His old friend had never been as cynical as he was. “I’ll bet she’s joined the choir, too.”

The sheriff’s jaw dropped. “How’d you know that?”

Wade just smiled as he stood up. He’d seen some sheet music in the bag the woman had on her shoulder, but he didn’t mind looking mysterious to Carl. “Just doing my job.”

The sheriff and Wade walked out of the restaurant together.

The cold wind hit Wade in the face and he pulled his hat down a little farther over his ears. The sheriff nodded and walked to the side of the café where he’d parked his car. Wade had to walk in the opposite direction.

It had been a long time since Wade had been in the town of Dry Creek. Back then the homes all looked like mansions compared to the weathered old house on his grandfather’s farm. He’d spent his childhood feeling second-rate around the other kids here, especially at Christmas. His mother died when he was four and his father went to jail shortly after that, so the only one left to give Wade a present had been his grandfather.

Wade knew a gift was never coming, but it took him years to stop hoping. In the meantime, he was embarrassed to have anyone else know he spent his barren Christmases out in the barn while his grandfather drank himself into a stupor in the house. Maybe that’s why he made up stories about imaginary Christmas dinners he claimed his grandfather used to make for them.

Wade smiled just remembering. Every Christmas, he had gone out to the barn and planned the stories he’d tell the other boys about those dinners. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him so he climbed up to the hayloft where he kept his mother’s jewelry box and her old magazines. That’s where he found the picture of the coconut cake with raspberry filling that he said was his grandfather’s specialty.

Wade had made it sound so mouth-watering the other kids practically drooled; he’d even agreed to copy the recipe for Carl one year.

But now, looking around at the houses, Wade wondered if some of those kids wouldn’t have understood a hard Christmas. The town was very ordinary, maybe even poor. None of the houses were new and, even though each was set back from the main street with a fenced lawn, it was winter and no grass was growing. It felt strange to remember how he used to envy the kids who lived in these houses.

Fortunately, by now he knew a man could have a good life without a family. And Christmas passed just fine with a drive-thru hamburger and fries.

He shook his head slightly so the memory of the red-haired woman wouldn’t sit so clearly in his mind. He didn’t need to mess up his life by dreaming about her. She was like that coconut cake. Something nice to dream about, but nothing that was likely to ever come his way. He was glad the sheriff had tipped him to the fact that the women around here were planning for her to marry Conrad—that is, if the sheriff wasn’t wrong and she didn’t end up back in jail instead.

He stopped a minute; he didn’t like thinking of her in a place like that. Then he sighed. His radar was good. That probably meant she was guilty as sin. Fortunately, it must also mean the church going was only a façade. If it was, he would have more in common with her than he thought. Suddenly, he was glad he was picking her up for dinner. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know her a little bit better. Maybe she wasn’t as much of an angel as she wanted people to think she was.

Chapter Three

Jasmine pulled the white curtain back from the kitchen window and looked out at her father’s farm. She wished she could just forget about Wade Sutton. The view out this window usually soothed her. Late-day shadows made the deep red barn look almost black. Even though it was winter, there was very little snow. Behind the barn, a mixture of dried wheat stalks and tall weeds spread over the slight hill. Night would be here soon, but she could still see well enough.

Just looking out that far made her eyes feel restful after being in prison for so long. There were no concrete buildings or search lights in sight. Unfortunately, what her eyes kept coming back to was the new post on the hill. She could barely see it in the gathering dusk, but she knew it rose up in the area to the left of the barn where the barbed-wire fence trailed up the hill.

Most of the wire fence on Elmer’s ranch sagged comfortably, but that particular section was stretched tight and kept in good repair. He said he wanted the divide clear between his land and the Sutton place.

Her father was a stubborn man. Clarence Sutton was another.

Several weeks ago, Clarence’s old donkey had wandered out of its barn, down the road and into her father’s lane. The animal had probably been looking for something to eat, but her father believed his neighbor had deliberately sent the donkey over to do mischief. Clarence, he said, always knew where his animals were and the donkey had a reputation for biting people. It had taken a bucket of oats to lure the donkey back to her barn and Clarence hadn’t even come out of his house to say a proper thank-you.

Last week, in retaliation, her father had dug a hole and put a twelve-foot metal cross on the top of the hill that divided the two ranches. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, today he’d taken several heavy-duty electrical cords and ran them from the barn up to the cross so he could wrap strands of Christmas tree lights around it. Now, in the evening, he could walk out to the barn and flip a switch and the cross would flash with white and yellow and clear lights. It would all look like a big golden cross that some televangelist would use.

Jasmine shook her head as she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see her father walk into the kitchen from the living room. He was wearing jeans and a dark denim shirt with snap buttons. His white hair was plastered back and he had a look of glee on his weathered face. “Time to turn on those lights.”

“Maybe you should wait and talk to Mr. Sutton before you do that,” Jasmine said. “He might not like them and—”

She’d told her father she was going to dinner at the Walls’, but she hadn’t told him she was being picked up by Wade. The way her father fumed about that donkey of Clarence’s, she doubted he’d be any more welcoming to the man’s grandson. If everything stayed calm, though, there was a chance her father wouldn’t see who was driving the car. He might just assume it was the sheriff behind the wheel.

“I’m celebrating Christmas. If old man Sutton doesn’t like the lights, he can just look the other way.” Her father picked a jacket off the coatrack by the door. “I got those special outdoor bulbs and I intend to use them—outside where they belong.”

It suddenly struck Jasmine that the reason the people of Dry Creek might be so excited she was in the pageant was because they hoped she’d work a miracle between these two men. Maybe she should give it a try.

“It’s not right,” Jasmine declared when her father had his hand on the doorknob. “Christmas should bring people together. Decorations aren’t something you use to annoy your neighbors.”

Elmer turned to her. “Of course, Christmas brings people together. That’s why I put the thing up there. Besides, an old sinner like Sutton should get down on his knees instead of complaining about Christmas anyway.”

“You’ll be using a lot of electricity with those lights.” Jasmine tried a different argument. She didn’t want to hear another list of Mr. Sutton’s shortcomings. “And they’re not energy-efficient bulbs.”

“I’ve got nothing better to do with my money than pay the electric company,” Elmer said as he opened the door. “I’ve already bought you that Christmas present and you won’t take the rest.”

Cold air came into the room.

“I’m practicing poverty,” she said. She was working on all of the attributes of the Christian life. She’d found a pamphlet and she was targeting the hardest ones first. “I don’t need more money.”

Elmer had started to walk through the door, but he turned around to look at her. “That’s why I’m buying you—”

“I don’t need jewels, either,” Jasmine added quickly. Her father had shown her the picture of a ten-thousand-dollar diamond-and-ruby necklace that he said he was buying for her. Ten thousand dollars! She hoped it was an empty promise.

“Every woman needs jewels,” Elmer snapped back. “It gives her security. I should have given some to your mother. And my wife, too.”

With that, he stomped out into the darkness.

Jasmine looked up at the clock on the wall. She didn’t want to argue with her newly found father again tonight. She knew it was guilt that was driving him and she’d have a hard time making him understand.

She didn’t care what holiday it was, real people didn’t wear necklaces like that. Not unless they wanted thieves to buzz around every time they walked out of their houses. Besides, she wanted to walk by faith. Her father was wrong; a woman wasn’t pushed to have as much faith when she had that many diamonds hanging around her neck.

She’d have to talk to her father later just to make sure he understood. In the meantime, Wade would be here in five minutes. She had planned to do a quick check on her lipstick so she stepped to the oval mirror hanging in the hallway.

She didn’t know why she was making such a big deal of her appearance since this wasn’t a date, but she wanted to look her best. Not that Wade would care if she wore a brown paper bag over her head. Her hand stopped. She wondered if she was guilty of the sin of vanity.

She sighed. She’d never thought there were so many pitfalls in the Christian life. Trying to make oneself worthy of God’s acceptance was not easy. People kept saying God didn’t care if she was an ex-con, but she just didn’t see it that way.

Jasmine took her perfume bottle out of her purse before she realized. Of course, that was it. It was amazing that she hadn’t seen it. No wonder Wade didn’t offer any friendliness. She was an ex-con. He was a lawman. He probably saw them as oil and water; sin and righteousness—good and evil.

Well, that was probably best for both of them.

She went ahead and sprayed perfume on her wrists. She was determined to be like the other women in Dry Creek and she looked to Edith for inspiration. The older woman wore rose-scented perfume, so Jasmine kept with a light scent. Since Edith wore dresses, Jasmine had bought a couple of plain shifts at a thrift store in Billings. She no longer wore clothes with much color and she kept her shoes sensible.

Jasmine had started to go back to the kitchen when she saw headlights flash through the window. At least her father was still out in the barn. Hopefully, he’d stay out there until she was gone.

She pulled her coat off the back of a chair where she’d placed it earlier. Her coat was the one thing she hadn’t been able to replace yet. Oh, well, she thought as she turned to the kitchen door, it would have to do. She shouldn’t care what Wade thought about the way she dressed anyway.

Wade wondered what was wrong as he drove up to Elmer’s house. On the drive out here, he’d thought nothing had changed in the decades that he’d been gone. The land was just as dry as it had always been and the gravel road had as many ruts. But he’d barely gotten out of Dry Creek before he saw a glowing light in the distance. When he turned off the main road to go down Elmer’s lane, he saw that someone had put what looked like Christmas lights on a cross standing on the hill that divided Elmer’s land from his grandfather’s place.

Wade wondered why anyone would bother with lights way out here in the middle of nowhere since not that many people drove down this county road. The one person who would see the cross most often would be Wade’s grandfather. Those lights must shine right in front of the porch where his grandfather sat every evening about now.

Wade started to chuckle as he stopped his car in front of the house. So that was it. The cross would make his grandfather crazy. No doubt about it. The two old men had never gotten along. They must still be going at it.

The back door to the house opened and Wade saw Jasmine standing there. The day had grown darker and light streamed out the door behind her. Her red hair was spikier than it had been earlier and her black leather coat had what looked like metal rivets along the sleeves. She stood there a minute and Wade almost wished he could keep an eye on her like Carl wanted. Guilty or innocent, she was definitely his kind of woman. It would be a pleasure to watch her awhile.