A Baby for Dry Creek and A Dry Creek Christmas: A Baby for Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

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      There was silence for a minute before Mrs. Hargrove said, “You know, maybe one of us should write to Chrissy and invite her to come to Dry Creek with her baby.”

      Reno snorted. He didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Hargrove’s feelings, but Chrissy would probably rather move to the moon than to Dry Creek. She likely thought it was the backside of nowhere, and she was right. Just because the people of Dry Creek liked the middle of nowhere didn’t mean Chrissy would. “We don’t have any shows or nightclubs or anything. Shoot, we don’t even have a proper post office.”

      Reno returned to reading the letter.

      “We have the café,” Jacob answered. “And the Christmas pageant every year.”

      “Pastor Matthew’s sermons have been downright entertaining lately with some of his stories about the twins,” Mrs. Hargrove added. “I think he’s almost as funny as that guy on the television everyone talks about. Any new mother would enjoy that.”

      “She could play with those calves of yours, too,” Jacob added. “They’re pretty cute—especially the ones you’re feeding with that fancy bucket of yours.”

      Reno looked up from the letter. He had finished it. “Well, she should be happy. Sounds like she’s going to get a handsome payment.”

      “Reno Redfern!” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I can’t believe you think that sweet girl would give her baby up to that lawyer!”

      “Well, she wouldn’t be giving it to the lawyer. The baby would go to Mrs. Bard. How bad can living with your grandmother be?”

      Reno couldn’t help but wish he’d had a grandmother who would have taken care of him when his mother left. “She probably bakes cookies and everything. The baby will be fine.”

      Mrs. Hargrove drew herself up indignantly. “Don’t you know anything about a mother’s love?” Then she gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

      Reno forced himself to smile. “That’s okay.”

      It wasn’t Mrs. Hargrove’s fault his mother had left him and Nicki when she left their father. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not all women were good mothers.

      “I should have insisted that father of yours bring you to town more often when your mother left,” Mrs. Hargrove muttered. “Just because the two of you looked fine, I shouldn’t have assumed your poor little hearts weren’t broken.”

      “Nothing was broken,” Reno said. “Lots of people have it worse in life.”

      Reno had made his peace with the fact that his mother had left when he was six. He’d had his father and he’d had Nicki. He’d done just fine.

      “But still—”

      “I’m sure Chrissy and her baby will be fine.” Reno wasn’t sure which topic he wanted to discuss less, his mother or Chrissy.

      Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “Still, if they were to come here—”

      “I’m sure she doesn’t want to move here,” Reno repeated.

      “Well, still, there’s the baby to think about. It’s our Christian duty to at least invite Chrissy. Someone needs to write her a letter and ask. It’s the hospitable thing to do for someone in trouble and—and—I’m beginning to think that’s what God would want. He always said we should offer hospitality to the stranger who’s in trouble.”

      Reno looked at his former Sunday-school teacher. She was eyeing him the way she had in the first grade when she wanted volunteers to answer a question. She wasn’t playing fair by bringing God into this, and she probably knew it.

      “I think God was talking about feeding strangers when they show up in town and are hungry. So far every person who drives through Dry Creek seems to be pretty well fed. But if they’re not, I’ll leave word with Linda and Jazz at the café to give them something to eat and add it to my bill.”

      Mrs. Hargrove frowned. “Hospitality is about more than food—God also told us to take in people who are in trouble.”

      “Well, God usually brings them to your doorstep. Chrissy is thousands of miles away.”

      “I didn’t think of that,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “We can’t just write a letter. How will she get here?”

      “She’s not coming.” Reno ground his teeth and searched for a change of subject. “Lots of mud outside, isn’t there?”

      No one answered him.

      “You know, Reno has a point, though,” Jacob agreed. “Usually God would do something to give a person a clue. Even Reno can’t just go driving down there to bring her and the baby back here. He doesn’t have the poor girl’s address.”

      Reno reached up to make sure the pocket on his shirt wasn’t on fire. Keeping quiet wasn’t exactly a lie, but he didn’t want to deceive anyone. “Well, even supposing I did have an address for her, people in Los Angeles move around all the time. How long would an address be good, anyway?”

      Jacob frowned as he pointed to the letter Reno still held. “Come to think of it, I bet that attorney would have her current address. Sounds like he’s keeping a close eye on her.”

      Mrs. Hargrove nodded. “It’s settled, then. Someone will have to go see if Chrissy wants to come here.”

      “I’ll go,” Lester volunteered from where he stood counting nails to put into a brown paper bag.

      Reno looked at Lester suspiciously. The man had an eagerness about him that Reno didn’t trust. “It’s a long way down to Los Angeles.”

      Lester grinned. “Yeah, but it’s a long way back, too. If she says she’ll come back here, I figure it’ll give me time to court her.”

      “What? She’s half your age,” Reno said. “You can’t date her.”

      “She’s single.” Lester looked surprised. “I’m single. What’s your problem? She’s not that much younger than your sister, and you didn’t object to me dating Nicki. Besides, some women like older men.”

      “No, Reno’s right,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “We can’t be sending some man down there who’s going to make her nervous. We need to send someone safe. Like Reno. He wouldn’t ask her out. Why, he’s almost family, now that I think of it.”

      “Almost family—” Reno choked.

      “She’s Garrett’s cousin,” Mrs. Hargrove explained patiently. “Garrett is married to your sister. That means Chrissy is almost your cousin.”

      Almost cousins. Reno groaned. It wasn’t fair. Family was the cornerstone of the Redfern Ranch and it had been for generations. Mrs. Hargrove knew he’d never refuse to help someone who could claim to be family. If he did, he’d be breaking one of those family rules that the Redferns had held on to since the turn of the past century.

      Reno gritted his teeth. Usually he was proud and grateful to be part of a family that had lived on the same land for so long. But sometimes, СКАЧАТЬ