Just a Little Christmas by Janet Dailey (9)

Chapter 9

Ellie and Clara had warmed up last night’s leftover spaghetti and finished it for supper. Ellie was clearing the table when Ben, Jess, and Ethan came in through the front door, trailing the aroma of pine. Only then did she remember that they’d talked about putting up the Christmas tree tonight.

“The tree’s on the porch,” Ben said. “Ellie, you’ll want to get your pet rat out of the way before we bring it in. He’ll be all over it.”

“Oh, thanks.” Ellie ignored her brother’s joke. “Ethan, would you find Beau? We don’t want him running outside while the door’s open, or getting underfoot while you’re putting up the tree.”

“I’ve got him,” Ethan said. “He came right to me.” He opened his jacket to reveal the little poodle snuggled against his chest. Until two weeks ago, Beau had never been around children. But he’d taken to Ethan and Gracie like instant best friends.

“Take him upstairs and shut him in my bedroom,” she said. “We’ll let him out again once the tree’s up.”

As Ethan vanished up the stairs with the dog, Ellie remembered once again that Jubal and Gracie were coming at 7:00. Unless they’d been delayed or changed their minds, they’d be here in a few minutes. Jubal wouldn’t be expecting a crowd, let alone a family celebration. He might feel uncomfortable. But that, Ellie reminded herself, was his problem, not hers.

Jubal had always been a loner. Now, after losing his wife, his father, and possibly his ranch, he seemed to have become even more solitary. Maybe being with Ben’s happy family would be good for him. He might even open up enough to talk with Ben about the loss of the ranch. If a crime had been committed, who better to involve than the local lawman?

That would be the sensible thing to do. But Jubal didn’t operate on sense. He operated on pride.

Jubal McFarland was the most stubborn person Ellie had ever known. She’d be smart to turn her back and let him solve his problems in his own mule-headed way. After all, she had her own situation to worry about. The trouble was, she couldn’t help feeling his pain. And she couldn’t help caring about the man and his adorable little girl.

Her thoughts scattered at the sound of Jubal’s old truck pulling up in front of the house. She would know that sound anywhere. Back in high school it had set her pulse skipping when he came by the house to pick her up for a date. But that had been a long time ago. Their whole world had changed since then.

“All clear!” Ethan announced, coming down the stairs. “I found the stand in the closet. Let’s get our tree in.”

Through the open doorway, Ellie glimpsed the truck’s headlights going dark and the doors opening. Moments from now, for better or for worse, Jubal and Gracie would be coming up the walk.

* * *

When Jubal had pulled up to the curb and seen Ellie’s brother’s family on the porch, he’d been tempted to keep driving. Not that he had anything against the sheriff. Like most of Branding Iron’s citizens, he had nothing but respect for Ben Marsden. But he’d hoped to make a quick stop, let Gracie try on the dress, and be on his way. Now things were looking complicated.

The words had been on the tip of Jubal’s tongue. But Gracie had been so excited about coming here, he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. He switched off the engine and lights and climbed out of the truck.

As they mounted the porch steps, it occurred to Jubal to wonder if he’d been set up. What if Ellie had arranged all this to get him talking to the sheriff about the ranch—something he wasn’t ready to do? What if she’d broken her word and told her brother already?

Ben was wrestling an enormous Christmas tree through the front door. “Hey, Jubal,” he said with a friendly grin. “Care to give me a hand?”

“Sure. Stay back, Gracie.” Jubal stepped up to help maneuver the eight-foot tree bottom first through the open doorway. He’d never known the sheriff well. Ben had been two years ahead of him in high school, so they’d never run with the same crowd. And unlike Ben, Jubal had never played team sports. He was a natural athlete who loved to ride and swim, but with the demands of the ranch, he’d had no time for the extra hours of practice that being on a team required.

While Jubal was dating Ellie, Ben had been a football star in college. By the time Ben returned to Branding Iron, his NFL hopes shattered by a knee injury, Jubal and Ellie were history. Only one encounter with the sheriff was seared into Jubal’s memory. It was Ben Marsden who’d knocked on the door that cold December night to bring him the news of Laura’s fatal crash. Ben’s manner had been professional and compassionate. But Jubal had avoided him after that. For a time, the sight of Ben’s face had been enough to stir the painful memory. But that had been four years ago.

Now, taking care not to break the branches, Jubal and Ben managed to get the heavy tree through the entry and into the living room. Meanwhile, Jess and Ethan had cleared a space in front of the window and put the metal stand in place. With Jess giving directions, the two men centered the tree, lifted it, and lowered the base of the trunk into the stand. Ethan wriggled underneath to tighten the bolts that would hold it in place.

Ben gave a low whistle of relief. “Thanks, Jubal. I swear the trees we choose get bigger every year. Or maybe I’m just getting older.”

“No problem. Glad to help.” Catching his breath, Jubal glanced around the room. He hadn’t been here since Ellie had broken up with him, but not much had changed. Cozy was the word for the small room, with soft chairs and pillows, green plants, and a shelf-full of well-worn books, mostly discards from the library where Clara had worked. A love of reading was something he and Ellie had shared from the beginning.

Turning, he saw her sitting next to her mother on the flowered sofa. For the space of a breath their gazes locked; then her attention shifted to Gracie, who’d followed the tree inside and closed the door behind her.

“Hi, Gracie,” she said. “How nice your hair looks. Would you like to help decorate our Christmas tree?”

Hesitant, Gracie glanced at Jubal. “We just came by so I could try on the dress,” she said. “Where’s Beau?”

As if in answer to her question, the sounds of scratching, barking, and whining came from the upstairs room. Gracie looked stricken. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Ellie said. “We locked him in my room to keep him safe while we put up the tree. You can go upstairs and see him if you want. Just be careful not to let him out.”

“Is it all right, Dad?” Gracie asked.

“Just for a few minutes,” he said. “We don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nobody’s being a bother.” It was Clara who spoke. “Let her enjoy the little dog, Jubal. She can try on the dress when she comes downstairs. Meanwhile, we’ve got some cold apple cider in the fridge. Let me get you a glass.”

“I’ll do it. Stay where you are, Mom.” Ellie was on her feet. “Anybody else?”

“I’ll take some as long as you’re going,” Clara said. “Bring it out on a tray with some glasses. Then folks can help themselves.”

Gracie had gone upstairs. Ellie was glad she’d taken time to put the drawing of Beau in a spare frame and hang it on her bedroom wall, where Gracie would see it.

“Take off your coat and have a seat, Jubal.” Clara spoke as Ellie vanished into the kitchen. She’d always been nice to him, Jubal recalled. But then Ellie’s mother was nice to everybody. If Branding Iron had a queen, it would be Clara Marsden.

Ellie returned with a jug of cider and a tray of glasses, balanced against her burgeoning belly. Setting her burden on the coffee table, she filled the glasses and passed them out to Clara, Jubal, Jess, and Ben.

Ethan had dashed upstairs again. Now he was making his way down with an awkward grip on the box of Christmas tree lights. The box didn’t look heavy but it was so big the boy could barely see over it. He had to negotiate each step by feeling with his feet.

“Got it.” Jubal put down his glass and lunged for the box, grabbing it just as it was about to topple. “You must be anxious to start decorating,” he said, setting it in front of the tree.

“Dad used to have the tree up before I got here,” Ethan said. “This year I get to help. It’ll be fun.”

“Sit down, son,” Ben said. “After we finish our cider we can string the lights. After that, I’ll help you bring the other boxes down.”

Jubal finished his cider and glanced toward the stairs. There was no sound from the upper floor of the house. A good fifteen minutes had passed since Gracie had gone upstairs to greet the dog. What could be keeping her?

Ellie was watching him, as if sensing his unease. “Maybe I’ll go up and check on Gracie and Beau,” she said, as if it were her idea. “Things are a little too quiet up there.”

“Thanks.” Jubal remained on his feet. Gracie had been taught the way to behave in other people’s homes. But she was a curious little girl. He’d feel better if he knew she wasn’t getting into mischief. It would be like Ellie to understand his concern.

Strange how well she read him, he thought. Even after ten years, some things didn’t change.

* * *

Ellie reached the top of the stairs, a little breathless from the climb. A lot had changed since the days when she’d raced home and taken those steps two at a time.

The door to her bedroom was closed. No sound came from inside. Maybe Gracie had gone to sleep. Ellie knocked lightly, then eased the door open.

Gracie sat cross-legged on the floor with Beau in her lap. Surrounding her was the collection of stuffed toy animals that Ellie had shoved into the back of the closet. There were teddy bears, an elephant, a unicorn, a tiger, a rabbit, a monkey, and several others that Ellie had accumulated over the years and displayed on her bed as a teenager.

Gracie started and glanced up, guilt written all over her small face. “I’m sorry, Ellie. Beau ran into the closet, and when I went after him I found these. I just had to get them out. They’re so wonderful!”

She put Beau on the bed and scrambled to her feet. “Please don’t be mad at me! I’ll put them back right now!”

“I’m not mad, Gracie.” Ellie sat on the side of the bed. “I’m glad you found those animals. Nobody’s played with them in a long, long time. Who knows, maybe they were lonesome.”

Ellie had planned to donate the toys to a charity, but she’d never gotten around to it. It would be a pleasure to give Gracie the whole batch of them. But something told her that Jubal, in his pride, wouldn’t stand for it.

But surely he wouldn’t mind just one, if it would give his daughter joy . . .

“I had a teddy bear when I was little,” Gracie said. “All the stuffing fell out of him and we had to throw him away. But these animals are nicer. And all different kinds. They’re beautiful.”

“Do you have a favorite?” Ellie asked. “Which one do you like the very best?”

Gracie hesitated only a moment before picking up a white poodle. “I like him,” she said. “He looks like Beau, only he’s a lot bigger.”

“Then he’s yours,” Ellie said.

Gracie’s blue eyes widened in disbelief. “Really? I can just take him?”

“That’s what I said. He’s yours.”

“Thank you!” Gracie flung her free arm around Ellie’s neck and hugged. “I love him! And I love you!”

Something jerked around Ellie’s heart, tightening until it hurt. Blinking back tears, she eased the little girl away from her. “Now that he’s yours, he needs a name. What are you going to call him?”

Gracie hugged the toy dog tighter. “I’m going to call him Big Beau.”

“Perfect.” Ellie reached for Beau, who was pawing her arm for attention. “Now that the tree’s up, shall we take our dogs downstairs?”

“Okay.” Gracie skipped to the door, then turned back with a worried look. “I’ll have to ask my dad if I can keep him. What if he says no?”

He wouldn’t dare, Ellie thought. Not if he’s anything like the man I remember.

“We’ll ask him together,” she said. “Come on.”

They were halfway down the stairs before Ellie recalled where the white plush poodle had come from. Jubal had given it to her on their first Valentine’s Day, with a big red bow around its neck.

* * *

Jubal recognized the stuffed dog as soon as he saw it. Sixteen-year-old Ellie had pined over it in the window of a local gift shop. He’d emptied his wallet to buy it for her as a Valentine surprise. Now here it was, minus its red ribbon and clutched in his daughter’s arms.

“Look, Daddy.” Clasping the toy, she walked up to Jubal, with Ellie behind her. “His name is Big Beau. Ellie said I could keep him.”

“I hope it’s all right.” Ellie stepped in quickly. “Gracie found my old stuffed animal collection. I let her choose the one she liked best.”

“Can I keep him? Please?” Gracie’s eyes were bright with hope, but Jubal saw the worry there. She was afraid he’d say no. But how could he refuse such a simple thing that would make his little girl so happy?

He nodded. “I guess you can. Just make sure you thank Ellie.”

“She already did.” Ellie’s eyes met Jubal’s. He wondered if she’d forgotten where that dog came from.

Clara rose from her chair. “Gracie, do you want to try on the dress now? It’s in my sewing room.”

“Sure!” Gracie thrust the toy dog into Jubal’s arms. “Take care of Big Beau for me till I get back, okay, Daddy?”

“Okay.” Jubal watched her skip down the hall, following Ellie’s mother. He sat there, holding the stuffed dog and feeling like a fool. Ellie placed her tiny poodle on the couch and busied herself putting the empty glasses back on the tray. When she carried it into the kitchen he followed her.

“Sorry if I overstepped.” She put the tray on the counter next to the sink, then turned to face him. “I know you don’t appreciate gifts. I just wanted to make her happy.”

“Don’t apologize, Ellie. I wish you’d asked me first, but it’s done.”

“Would you have said no?”

“Probably not. How could I?”

“Anyway . . .” She opened the dishwasher and began putting the glasses inside. “You’re the one who paid for that dog, all those years ago when you gave it to me.”

Jubal forced a chuckle. “I can’t believe you remember, or that you kept the silly thing all these years.”

“I’ve got a whole menagerie, saved from my teens. Gracie could have them all if you’d let her.”

“If I’d let her?” Jubal’s voice lowered to a growl. “Damn it, Ellie. It’s not that I don’t want Gracie to have toys and nice things. It’s that I want to be the one providing them. That’s what I’ve worked for—paying the debts on the ranch so I can upgrade to a good, moneymaking operation. I want Gracie to have nice clothes and music lessons like other girls, maybe art classes, too. When she’s ready, I want to send her to college. But right now . . .” He let the words trail off. There was no need to say more.

Ellie finished loading the dishwasher and straightened to face him. “I know what you must be thinking. But I haven’t said a word to Ben about your situation. And no matter how it looks, I didn’t set you up tonight. I’d forgotten they were coming when I asked you to bring Gracie here.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “I’ll do anything to help you, Jubal. But only if you want me to.”

Flecks of copper burned in her deep brown eyes. If he hadn’t been in her mother’s kitchen, with her family in the next room, Jubal would have been tempted to seize her in his arms and ravish her mouth with kisses. But even thinking about it was a bad idea. The sooner he closed the door on that notion, the better.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. Those haunting eyes and kissable lips triggered memories of other times, when she’d been his girl and there’d been almost no limits to their love—or so he’d thought. But he wasn’t going down that road again.

“Look, Dad! Look, Ellie!” Gracie stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking like a little doll in blue flowered calico. She made a turn to show off the dress—long, with a ruffled hem, puffy sleeves, and ties that made a bow in back. Jubal’s throat tightened as he looked at her. So pretty.

Ellie clapped her hands. “It’s perfect!” she said. “Look how the color matches her eyes!”

Clara appeared in the doorway behind Gracie. “Isn’t it lovely on her? The seams are still pinned at the sides. But now that she’s tried it on, I can finish the dress tomorrow.”

Jubal found his voice. “Thank you, Mrs. Marsden. It’s a beautiful dress. I’d like to pay you for the material and your time.”

“Oh, nonsense, Jubal!” Clara gave a vehement shake of her silvery head. “The dress didn’t cost me a cent to make and I enjoyed every minute. Just seeing your little girl so happy is payment enough.”

“Well, thanks. If there’s anything I can do for you—”

“You can accept a gift with pleasure. Just that.” Clara spoke as if she were scolding a noisy child for talking in the library. “Come on, Gracie, let’s take the dress off. Then you can help us decorate the tree.” She turned around and walked toward the hall with Gracie skipping after her.

When Jubal looked back at Ellie, she was smiling. He forced a chuckle. “I never was a match for your mother,” he said.

“Nobody is. But she always liked you. On the day of my wedding to Brent, she told me that you were the one I should’ve married.”

Something jerked in Jubal’s chest. “I can’t believe she liked me that much,” he said.

“I guess we’ll never know. But she couldn’t stand Brent. And in the end she was right—at least about him.” Ellie fell silent, maybe wondering whether she’d said too much. Her gaze dropped to her bulging middle, covered by the loose black sweater she wore. Then she looked up and smiled, ending the awkward moment.

“Well, we might as well go back and help finish the tree,” she said.

Jubal rethought the excuse he’d been about to make. After all, what did he have to go home to? “I hadn’t planned to stay. But Gracie seems set on decorating, so I guess it won’t hurt to stick around a little longer.”

“Did you get your own tree done?”

“We did.” Assuming a relaxed expression, he followed Ellie into a room alive with Christmas cheer and talking, laughing people.

* * *

An hour later, Jubal managed to get Gracie into her coat and out of the house. As they climbed into the truck and pulled away, they could see the tree, a glory of sparkling lights in the living room window.

By the time they reached the outskirts of town, a storm was blowing in. Jubal drove carefully, a hard wind battering the truck. Beside him, buckled into the passenger seat, Gracie clutched her precious stuffed dog. She’d had a wonderful time tonight, helping trim the tree and playing with Ellie’s tiny poodle. It had done his heart good to see his little girl so happy.

But Jubal’s thoughts were still centered on the theft of his ranch—if that’s what it was—and what it could mean to their future. He had never felt more frustrated in his life. There had to be something he could do.

More than once during the evening, he’d been tempted to pull Ben aside and ask his advice. But he’d stopped himself. Going to the sheriff without a shred of evidence would only make him look like a fool. He needed to find something solid, like a copy of the contract—or whatever it was—his father had signed to transfer the ownership of the ranch. And he needed to identify the people who’d drawn it up.

But did such a document even exist? He’d searched the desk and spent hours going through boxes of his father’s papers. There was no place else to look.

“Are you all right, Daddy?” Gracie’s touch on his sleeve pulled him back to the present.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said. “Just tired, that’s all.”

“You don’t look fine. You look sad. Is something wrong?”

“Not really.” The white lie was necessary. He turned off the highway onto the graveled lane. Snow had begun falling in soggy flakes that slid down the windshield. Jubal switched on the wipers. Playing with a sudden idea, he glanced at his daughter.

“I want you to use your imagination, Gracie,” he said. “If you had to hide something important, something you didn’t want people to see, where would you put it?”

“Something important? You mean like a treasure?”

“No, more like a letter, maybe. Or a picture. Or even money.”

Gracie thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Once I saw a TV show where people hid some money in their bed, under the mattress. I guess I could put it there, if it wasn’t too lumpy to sleep on.”

“That’s a good answer,” Jubal said. Come to think of it, one place he hadn’t checked was his father’s old bedroom. Seth McFarland had died of a stroke in the barn. After the burial, his room had been tidied up and closed. Jubal had meant to haul out the old furniture, repaint the walls, and make it into an office or den, but he’d never found the time. Except for the bedsheets and the old man’s clothes and shoes, which had been donated to a shelter in Cottonwood Springs, the room was pretty much as he’d left it three years ago.

“What do you want to hide, Daddy?” Gracie asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“Oh.” She yawned. Through the falling snow, Jubal could see the glow of the porch light he’d left on.

“Bedtime for you, as soon as we get inside,” he said.

“Can I take Big Beau to bed with me?” She hugged the stuffed dog tighter.

“Sure.” He pulled around to the open shed to park the truck out of the snow. That done, he boosted Gracie out of the seat and carried her into the house through the back door. She scurried off to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later, when he came to tuck her in, he found her already asleep, curled under the blankets with Big Beau in her arms.

Leaving her door ajar, he walked down the hall. His father’s old bedroom was at the very end. An uneasy prickle stole over him as he opened the door and switched on the overhead light. He’d always felt like an intruder coming in here, especially when his father was sleeping off one of his headaches. Maybe that was the real reason he hadn’t followed through with his plan to refurbish the room.

The closet and the dresser drawers had been emptied, but Jubal checked them anyway, finding nothing. The hardwood floor, even under the furniture, showed no sign of a loose board that might hide a secret cache. That left Gracie’s idea—the bed.

The brass bed frame was old and tarnished. The bare mattress, covered in blue and white ticking, bore a hollow where the old man had slept. Faint odors of sweat and tobacco lingered in the fabric.

Steeling himself for disappointment, Jubal crouched next to the bed and slid an arm between the mattress and the box spring. His hand moved cautiously over the surface. It might have been smarter to lift the mattress off the bed and look underneath. Anything could be lurking under here—spiders, mice, even a weapon.

He was about to do just that when his fingers touched something. It was paper—several sheets, folded like a letter. Jubal’s pulse slammed as he withdrew them into the light and saw what they were.