Silent Night in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

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      “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.

      He sat there, just enjoying the sight of her when—without any warning—a gunshot ripped through the silence. Wade looked over at Jasmine. She seemed frozen in place. With all of the light behind her, she made a perfect target.

      “Get inside!” he yelled.

      The sound of the shot had come from the north, so Wade bent down and drove his car as close as possible to the doorway where Jasmine had been standing.

      “Lose the lights,” he ordered when he saw they were still on in the kitchen. He didn’t want someone shooting at the windows. He wondered if Lonnie had a problem with Jasmine and had sent someone to—

      He shut off his car and opened his passenger door. Then he folded himself СКАЧАТЬ