In the Spirit of...Christmas and A Very Special Delivery: In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Very Special Delivery. Linda Goodnight

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      Jade pulled back. “Uh-uh.”

      Lindsey sighed, but relented and swept the little girl into her arms. “Okay, then. I have another idea.”

      She carried Jade to the house. A bewildered Sushi remained in the driveway as commanded.

      “Stand here inside the house where you can see Sushi and me through the glass door.” Lindsey took a piece of leftover chicken from the fridge. She’d planned to have the meat for supper, but helping Jade begin the process of overcoming this phobia was far more important. “Watch what a good girl Sushi is and how she loves to play, but she always minds me when I tell her to do something. Okay?”

      Nodding and wide-eyed, Jade stood inside the door, her face pressed to the glass while Lindsey stepped onto the porch and called the dog. When Sushi arrived, skidding to a stop at her owner’s command, Lindsey spent several minutes putting the animal through all her obedience commands. Extremely well disciplined, Sushi even resisted the piece of baked chicken, though Lindsey knew the meat was her favorite treat.

      Then she played with Sushi, petting her, tossing sticks that the dog retrieved, scratching her belly.

      Finally, Lindsey lay down on the porch to show her total trust of the dog. Sushi responded by plopping her big head onto Lindsey’s chest with a delighted sigh that made Jade laugh.

      Sitting up, Lindsey rotated toward Jade. “See what a good girl she is?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Would you like to pet her?”

      “Uh-uh.” But Lindsey could see that, for once, she wanted to.

      Confident they’d made progress, Lindsey relented. “Maybe next time?”

      Leaving Sushi on the porch, Lindsey dusted her clothes and came inside. She peeked at the yellow teapot clock hanging over the cook stove. Jade had been here at least thirty minutes and still no sign of Jesse. Refusing to worry, she internalized a little prayer, and turned her attention to occupying Jade. The little girl didn’t need to fret about her daddy even if Lindsey was.

      “I’m starved.”

      “Me, too.”

      Using her best imitation of an English lady, Lindsey said, “Shall we prepare tea and dine?”

      Jade giggled. “Can we dress up too? And you can be the princess and I’ll be the queen?”

      “Lovely idea, my queen. Right this way, please.” Nose in the air as befit royalty, she led the way to the huge plastic storage bin in her bedroom closet where she kept a variety of thrift-shop and novelty-store play clothes. Jade, getting into the spirit of the game, followed suit. She fell upon the container, carefully lifting out one garment after another, exclaiming over each one as if the clothes came from Rodeo Drive.

      In no time, she’d chosen outfits for both of them and they traipsed on plastic high heels, boas trailing, into the kitchen to prepare the Oklahoma version of high tea.

      “Let’s make fancy sandwiches first. Later, we’ll do cookies.”

      “Do you have Christmas cookie cutters?” Jade shoved at her sun hat, repositioning the monstrosity on her head. Bedecked with more flowers than Monet had ever painted, the hat tied with a wide scarf under the child’s chin. Lindsey thought she looked adorable.

      “A bunch of them. We can use them on the sandwiches if you want to.”

      “Cool. Do you gots sprinkles too?”

      “Oh, yeah. I have tons of sprinkles. All colors. But let’s not put those on the sandwiches.”

      Jade giggled. “For the cookies, silly. I want to make Daddy a big red cookie.” Her face fell. “I wish my daddy would come. I’ll bet he’s getting hungry.”

      “He’ll be here soon,” Lindsey said with more confidence than she felt as she spread the sandwich fixings on the table. “Tell you what. Let’s say a little prayer asking Jesus to take care of him and bring him safely home.”

      She hardly noticed that she’d referred to her own house as home for Jesse and Jade. Semantics didn’t matter right now.

      “Okay.” To Lindsey’s surprise, Jade closed her eyes and folded her little hands beneath her chin. Even though Jesse shied away at the mention of God, someone had taught this child to pray.

      Closing her own eyes, Lindsey said a short but heartfelt prayer.

      “Amen.”

      Jade’s shoulders relaxed. “Jesus will take care of Daddy, won’t He?”

      “Yes, He will. And He’ll take care of you too.” She smeared mayo on a slice of bread, handing it to Jade to layer on the meat and cheese. “Did you know you have a guardian angel who is always with you?”

      Shaking her head, Jade licked the mayo off one finger.

      “Well, you do. Everybody does. But God has very special guardian angels that take care of children. Jesus loves you so much He tells your very own angel to keep watch over you day and night.”

      “Even when I’m asleep?”

      “Yes.” She chose an angel from the pile of cookie cutters. “That’s why you don’t need to be afraid of anything—ever. Your angel is always here, looking after you.”

      Jade took the metal angel, studied it, and then pressed the shape into a sandwich. “Does Daddy have a guarding angel?”

      Lindsey smiled at the mispronunciation. “He sure does.”

      “Can I save this angel sandwich for my daddy?”

      “Of course you can. We’ll make enough of everything so he can eat, too, when he gets here.”

      That seemed to satisfy Jade, and Lindsey wished she were as easily comforted. Where was Jesse? Leaving Jade alone was so uncharacteristic of him. Had something happened? In the weeks of their acquaintance she’d grown fond of him, fonder than was comfortable, and the thought of something happening to him was unspeakable.

      

      Agitated and filled with self-recriminations, Jesse stormed across Lindsey’s yard, hoping with everything in him that Jade was here. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so busy, so deeply enmeshed in the stacks of court records that the time had slipped away and he’d forgotten to pick Jade up from school until she was long gone. What kind of lousy father was he anyway?

      Sushi bounded out to meet him, a good sign. His spirits lifted somewhat, though he’d feel better if the German shepherd bit him. He deserved to be punished. For all his searching, he hadn’t found a bit of useful information; not one single reference to any transaction between Charles Mitchell and Les Finch.

      The day as gray as his mood, Jesse mounted the porch—and heard singing. A husky adult voice that sent an unexpected shiver of pleasure dancing along his nerve endings blended sweetly with a higher, childish melody.

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