Just a Little Christmas by Janet Dailey (8)

Chapter 8

On the following Tuesday night, Ellie had invited Ben’s family over for dinner. With Clara, they crowded around the kitchen table and feasted on spaghetti with salad and garlic bread, topped off with chocolate ice cream for dessert.

Although she hadn’t planned it that way, the dinner turned out to be a celebration. Jess and Ben had just learned that they were going to be parents. Happiness overflowed at the small table.

“So your little girl will have a cousin to grow up with.” Ben gave Ellie a grin. “Think how much fun that will be, the two little nippers running around together, getting into all kinds of mischief.”

Ellie avoided her brother’s eyes. Didn’t Ben understand that she planned to leave Branding Iron? Or was this his way of coaxing her to stay?

True, with family here, the town would be a good place to raise her child. But merciful heaven, how would she stand it? She couldn’t just sit around watching her baby grow up. She needed something to do. She needed friends and most likely a job—things that would be easier to find in a city where she didn’t stand out like a sore thumb.

Ethan nudged his father. “Dad, may I be excused to go and play with Beau?”

“Sure. Did you thank Ellie for dinner?”

“Thanks, Ellie, the spaghetti was great.” Ethan slid out from his chair and left the kitchen to look for the dog. At the week’s end, when school was out, he’d be leaving for Boston to spend the holidays with his mother and her new family. Ben was happy with the new custody arrangement that allowed his son to go to school in Branding Iron, but not having Ethan here for Christmas was going to be hard on them both.

“So . . .” Ben leaned back in his chair, his lawman’s gaze fixed on Ellie. “How’s it going with Jubal?”

Jubal again. Ellie shook her head.

“Honestly, Ben, will you stop teasing me? I haven’t heard from him or his little girl since last week. There’s nothing going on between us—nothing at all.”

The memory of that searing kiss flashed in her mind. She’d felt the shimmering heat all the way to her toes. But it couldn’t be allowed to mean anything. Jubal had understood that as well as she had.

The fact that Gracie, who had her own cell phone, hadn’t called her was a clear sign of where things stood between them. That was best for everyone, Ellie told herself. But she already missed Jubal and his daughter.

She worried about them too, knowing what Jubal was facing with the loss of his ranch. There had to be some way to help him. She was tempted to involve Ben, but she’d promised to keep Jubal’s secret. For now, at least, she couldn’t break that promise.

“I’ve been working on Gracie’s dress for the Christmas Ball,” Clara said. “I need to fit it on her before I do any more. Could you get her over here sometime soon? The ball is a week from this Saturday, so we don’t have much time.”

Ellie had almost forgotten about the dress. Had Gracie told her father about the plan for her to go with them to the ball in the gown Clara was making? What if he viewed the whole idea as “charity” and refused to let his daughter be involved?

In that case, Ellie thought, she would give him a piece of her mind. But Jubal was proud, not cruel. It would be more like him to insist on paying for the dress and Gracie’s ticket.

“I’ll invite Gracie over again,” she told her mother. “I know she’ll be excited about the dress.”

“Speaking of Christmas,” Ben said, “with Ethan gone, it won’t be much of a Christmas at our little house. We were thinking, before he leaves, we’d like to stick with tradition and put a nice tree up here. Then Jess and I could come over on Christmas Day to celebrate together. What do you think?”

“Why that would be lovely,” Clara said. “Our first Christmas with Ellie since she got married to that . . .” She paused, weighing her words. “Oh, never mind.”

Her mother had never liked Brent, Ellie recalled. When Clara had voiced her feelings privately to Ellie, before the wedding, the rift between them had lasted for years. But all that was in the past. At least Clara had never said, I told you so.

“That sounds great,” Ellie said. “Maybe I can be Santa Claus. I’ve certainly got the figure for it.”

“Good one, sis.” Ben grinned at her.

They were finishing dessert when Ben got a call about a drug bust and had to leave. Ellie and Jess shooed Clara into the living room and went to work cleaning up the meal.

“I’m so happy for you!” Ellie hugged her sister-in-law. She already knew how much Ben and Jess had wanted to start a family.

“It was quite a surprise when we saw that pregnancy test,” Jess said. “Ben’s over the moon.”

“How about Francine? How do you think she’ll take the news that she’s going to be a grandma?”

“She’ll be tickled pink. She’s been hinting for a grandchild almost since the wedding. But we may wait a few weeks to tell her. You know Francine. She won’t be able to keep it quiet.”

“What about you?” Ellie opened the dishwasher and began loading it. “After all, you’re the one who’s actually going to have this baby.”

Jess was covering the leftovers, putting them in the fridge. “Me, I’m a little scared. Oh, I’m thrilled about the baby, but it’s all so new. When I think about what’s ahead, especially giving birth, all I can do is pray that I’m up to it.”

“Let me tell you a secret,” Ellie said. “When you’ve been pregnant for almost nine months and you’re as big as a cow and so miserable that you can barely get around, you’ll be ready to go through anything to get that baby into the world. Believe me, I’m there. It’s being responsible for this brand-new little life that scares me now.”

“I’ll remind myself of that,” Jess said. “And speaking of babies, don’t forget your shower is this Saturday.”

“Are you sure anybody will want to come?” Jess had seen the guest list. More than half the nineteen names on it were women she didn’t recognize. At least one—her former classmate, Krystle Martin Remington—had no reason to be friends with her.

“Oh, they’ll come,” Jess said. “I sent the invitations with an RSVP, and fifteen of them have already accepted. It’s a good thing we’re having it at the B and B. Plenty of room and plenty of chairs. And you do need a baby shower, Ellie. You’re going to need a lot of things for your little one.”

“I already have quite a few,” Ellie said. She really did feel prepared. Ben had found her old bassinet in the basement, dusted it off, and hauled it up to her room, along with the mattress and the little sheets Clara had carefully boxed away years ago. Last week, when Ellie had driven to Cottonwood Springs for her meeting with the obstetrician and her precheck at the hospital, she’d dropped by the mall afterward, bought some Christmas gifts, and stocked up on baby clothes, including some pajamas and some darling little girly outfits complete with hair bows and tiny slippers. And diapers. She’d bought a couple boxes of those, too, in newborn size.

“You’ll get some useful items—and good practical advice—from the women who’ve had babies,” Jess said. “They’ll know what works and what doesn’t. Trust me, you’ll be glad you listened.”

“I know I will.” Ellie gave her sister-in-law’s shoulders a squeeze before closing the dishwasher. “Thanks for doing this—I really mean it.”

When your turn comes, I’ll do the same for you. Ellie bit back the words she’d been about to say. She didn’t believe in making promises she couldn’t keep. By the time Jess and Ben’s baby was due, she could be anywhere.

Anywhere except Branding Iron.

* * *

That night, with the baby’s acrobatics keeping her awake, Ellie lay on her side, gazing at the moon through the gauzy curtains. Worries churned in her mind—handling motherhood, the baby shower, her future plans . . . But every thread of thought circled back to Jubal. Over the years, she’d convinced herself that their teenage romance was history. But that kiss had awakened all the old flutters and urges. The feeling was like being seventeen again.

But it wasn’t just the kiss that had moved her. It had been the little things—like watching Jubal braid his daughter’s hair and seeing him pay more money than he could afford to buy her the Christmas tree she wanted. It had been remembering the boy she’d loved and left behind, and now seeing the man he’d become.

When Jubal had told her about the loss of the ranch and his vain search for answers, Ellie had shared his frustration. There had to be some way she could help him without breaking her promise. She rolled onto her back, thinking hard as she rested her hands over her shifting baby. If the Shumway corporation, whoever they were, had illegally cheated Seth McFarland out of his property, there had to be a reason. That reason could be the key to Jubal’s quest.

With little to do except help her mother and wait for the baby, she had plenty of time to spare. The library kept archives of the local newspaper, the Lone Star Reporter, which was published in Cottonwood Springs. The older copies were stored on microfilm, the newer ones on DVDs or thumb drives. She would visit the library tomorrow and spend several hours looking. She had nothing to go on except a few dates and names, and perhaps a hunch or two, so it was a long shot at best. But if it paid off, it could make all the difference.

Still mulling possibilities, Ellie eased back onto her left side. Beau, who’d been curled in a nest of pillows on the floor, jumped onto the bed, licked her face, and settled down beside her. Snuggling her little dog close, she drifted into sleep.

* * *

When the Branding Iron Public Library opened at 10:00 the next morning, she was waiting to walk through the doors. Since her mother had been city librarian during Ellie’s growing-up years, the place was like a second home to her. She knew exactly where to go and what to ask for. Fifteen minutes later, she was in the library basement, seated at one of three aging computers with cases of DVDs containing newspaper editions dating from the last two years before the McFarland ranch was transferred to Shumway and Sons, and from the year after.

For a moment, the task she’d taken on seemed overwhelming. If she checked out every item, she was going to be here a long time. Even if the out-of-date software had a search function, finding useful information wasn’t going to be easy.

She had barely started when she heard footsteps and a familiar voice.

“Ellie? I saw your car outside. What are you doing here?” Jubal, wearing his sheepskin coat and carrying a notepad, stood behind her.

“I’m trying to help you,” she said.

He eyed the cases of DVDs. “So that’s why I was told that the news files I wanted were checked out.”

“We must’ve had the same idea,” Ellie said.

Jubal didn’t look too pleased. Maybe she’d overstepped. Maybe he was about to tell her to mind her own business.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “It isn’t your problem.”

“I have time on my hands,” she said. “I might as well make myself useful. Working together we can cut the load in half. And who knows? We might even find something important. So sit down and let’s get going.”

He hesitated. Then, with a long exhalation, he shed his coat, sat down, and brought up the computer next to the one Ellie was using. “Fine. I’ll start with the oldest editions and work forward. You can start with the more recent and work backward.”

“Makes sense.” Ellie passed him the DVDs with older dates, and they went to work. “I’ll be looking for any mention of Shumway and Sons, or any reason somebody might want to steal your land.”

“You’re assuming it was stolen,” Jubal said. “My father made some reckless financial moves in his last years. He could’ve signed away the ranch for reasons of his own. But I’ve searched through all his papers. There’s no bill of sale, no clue to what happened.”

“Maybe we’ll find something.” Ellie touched his arm in a gesture of reassurance. He glanced toward her, his eyes a flash of galvanizing blue in the shadows of the low-ceilinged room. Then he looked away.

“Let’s get to work,” he said.

Side by side, they scrolled through the contents of one disk after another. They said little, but Ellie could hear his breathing and feel his presence inches away. The awareness created a pleasant pool of heat low in her body.

Did he feel something, too? But what a silly question. Her pregnant figure wouldn’t stir a tingle in any man—let alone a man as preoccupied as Jubal.

“Look at this.” His voice startled her in the silence. Ellie shifted her chair for a view of his computer screen. The print on the scanned page was hard to read, but she could make out the date—a few weeks before the time of Laura’s accident—and the headline.

Ellie shook her head. “There can’t be any oil around here. I haven’t seen so much as a single pump jack.”

“True,” Jubal said. “But I remember the rumor and all the fuss about it. Some big company was supposed to come out here and sink a few experimental wells. The months went by, and it never happened, but people were mighty stirred up for a while. They were buying property right and left where the oil was supposed to be.”

“What about you?”

“I never set much stock in it. Neither did my dad. We figured if there was oil around here, somebody would’ve already found it. Besides we had a ranch to work. And then, after Laura died, it was all I could do to get through one day at a time. I wasn’t paying much attention to oil rumors.”

Their eyes met in a flash of understanding—as if they knew, without speaking, that they’d both come to the same conclusion.

“There’s no proof either way,” Jubal said. “But those oil rumors could’ve given somebody reason to swindle my dad into signing over the ranch.”

“And they never took possession because the oil boom never happened,” Ellie said. “As things stood, it made more sense to just let you keep working the ranch.”

“They wouldn’t have needed to take physical possession. If the oil had been there, all they’d have needed to do was sell the mineral rights to the oil company. The bastards would’ve been sitting pretty.”

“They couldn’t have just taken over the ranch,” Ellie mused, thinking out loud. “Coming into the open would’ve exposed them to suspicion—especially if it turned out to be someone you knew—and especially if they’d done the same thing to other people.”

“Damn it, Ellie!” Turning in his chair, he seized her shoulders. His grip was almost painful, his eyes feverish with excitement. “This has to be the answer. It makes perfect sense!” He released her, his hands falling to his sides. “But we don’t have a blasted shred of proof!”

“Maybe we can still find proof.”

Jubal eyed the stack of unexamined DVDs. “So we keep digging in the haystack, hoping we’ll find the needle.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Jubal’s only response was to turn back to the computer screen and start scrolling down the page.

“Are you sure your father wouldn’t just sell the ranch outright? You said he’d become reckless.”

“If he did, I don’t know what he did with the money. When I took over the finances I found a mountain of unpaid loans and bills. Come to think of it, he did give me five thousand dollars to pay for Laura’s funeral expenses. At the time, it didn’t occur to me to wonder where it came from. But he’d have gotten a lot more than that if he’d sold the ranch.” Jubal’s mouth tightened. “We need to track down Shumway and Sons. That would be our best chance of finding whether the transfer was legal.”

They spent the next two hours on the computers. By the time they’d finished going through the files, they were bleary-eyed and mentally exhausted. Worse, they’d found nothing else useful.

“At least I saved you some time. Wish me luck getting up. My back and shoulders are killing me.” Ellie moved forward to push her ungainly body off her chair.

“Stay put. Maybe I can make it easier.” Standing, Jubal stepped behind her. His big, rough hands rested on her shoulders, thumbs working the tight muscles on either side of her spine.

Ellie closed her eyes. Her breath emerged in a blissful sigh. “Oh, that feels heavenly. Please don’t stop.”

His hands kneaded her shoulders with gentle skill. He chuckled as she moaned with pleasure. “Let me know when you want me to quit,” he said.

“How about never?”

Only when he failed to answer did Ellie realize what her words had implied. Ten years ago those words might have pleased him. Now they were bittersweet.

The library basement was dim and silent. His fingers gentled on her shoulders, his touch becoming a caress. She battled the urge to reach up and stroke his hands—or even to turn and raise her face to his kiss.

Ellie knew better than to voice the thought. Whatever was happening here, it mustn’t go on. She broke the silence with a forced laugh. “I think I’ll be all right now,” she said, getting up. “Thanks for the massage.”

His mouth twitched in a half smile. “You earned that and more. How about I treat you to lunch?”

Ellie was about to decline. Then she remembered that she still needed to invite Gracie over to have her dress fitted. It would be easy enough to bring it up over burgers and shakes at Buckaroo’s.

* * *

After turning in the files at the reference desk, Jubal escorted Ellie outside to the Purple People Eater. He’d asked to drive the old car to Buckaroo’s, and she’d gladly let him.

“This is great,” he said. “Cruising down Main Street, with the muffler roaring and a pretty girl by my side, I feel like a teenager again.”

Laughing, Ellie laid a hand on his knee. The Christmas lights were glowing, the music was playing, and he’d discovered a possible clue to the loss of the ranch. It wasn’t much to go on, but for the first time in weeks, he felt a spark of hope. The ride was a short one, but Jubal enjoyed the feeling while it lasted.

With the lunchtime rush over, Buckaroo’s was quiet. They settled in a corner booth, and Jubal ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and double chocolate shakes—Ellie’s old favorite—for them both. He’d have preferred beer himself, but he knew she wasn’t drinking because of the baby. Service was fast. They had their order in a few minutes.

Ellie sat across from him, her body barely fitting between the seat and the edge of the table. Her face was flushed with cold, her hair loosely twisted and anchored at the crown with a silver clip. Tired shadows framed her dark brown eyes—he guessed she wasn’t sleeping well. Even so, she looked beautiful.

It struck Jubal how alone she was. Even with her family here, she was taking on a heavy burden, having this baby by herself. But he was in no position to help her. And even if he were, Ellie was bound to go her own way—and break his heart again, along with Gracie’s.

“How’s it going with your daughter’s hair?” she asked.

“Fine. The first morning I did the braid, she was late for the bus and I had to drive her to school. But I’m getting the hang of it—and we’ve got her hair looking good. No more pigtails ever again, she says.”

“That’s great.” She sipped her shake, getting chocolate on her full lower lip. Jubal fought the temptation to bend close and lick it off—as he might have done years ago.

“I don’t know if Gracie has told you,” she said, “but my mother is making her a Western gown for the Christmas Ball. She wants Gracie to come by the house and try the dress on so she can finish it.”

The request came as a surprise. Jubal had always encouraged Gracie to be honest with him, but she’d said nothing about a gown or even about the Christmas Ball.

“I didn’t even know she was going,” he said.

“Ben and Jess said they’d take her. And my mother offered to make the dress. Gracie’s excited about going. I hope you won’t spoil things for her.”

Ellie’s words stung. Why would she think he’d spoil a happy celebration for his little girl?

“Is it all right?” she asked.

“Of course it is. I just wish I’d known about it, that’s all. I’ll pay for her ticket, of course. And the dress, too.”

“The dress isn’t costing a cent,” Ellie said. “My mother already had the fabric, and she loves to sew. As for the ticket, why don’t you buy one for yourself, too, and come with her? Gracie would love that.”

Jubal sighed. True, Gracie would be happy if he took her to the ball. But with so much worry bearing down on him, he was hardly in the mood to go to a party. “I haven’t been to the Christmas Ball in years,” he said. “After Laura’s accident, there didn’t seem to be much point in it.”

“So Gracie hasn’t gone to the ball either?”

“I always take her to the Saturday morning Christmas parade. She’s never said it wasn’t enough.”

“But everybody goes to the Cowboy Christmas Ball, even kids. Surely she’s heard her classmates talking about it at school. I know you want to give her a good Christmas, Jubal . . .” She paused, then added, “. . . .and I know why.”

“Damn it, Ellie, nobody could say no to you.” Jubal pushed his empty plate to one side. “All right, I’ll buy Gracie a ticket. She can wear the dress and go with your family. Are you happy now?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about Gracie. And I think she’d be even happier if you went to the ball with her.”

“Don’t push me.” Jubal took a bill out of his wallet and laid it on the table to cover the meal and the tip. “Let me know what time’s good for you, and I’ll bring Gracie to your mother’s place to try on the dress.”

“I’d be glad to pick her up after school and bring her home.” Ellie shrugged into her coat, which she’d slipped off her shoulders in the booth.

“I’ll bring her. I want to thank your mother for the dress and pay for the ticket.”

“Fine. How about tomorrow night? You’re welcome to come and have supper with us if you like.”

“Thanks, but that’s a lot of bother for you. We’ll eat at home and stop by around seven. All right?”

“Sure. See you then.” She accepted the hand he offered to help her squeeze out of the booth.

In the parking lot, she took the wheel so she could drop him off at his truck. Jubal studied her silent profile as she drove back up Main Street, under the strings of colored Christmas lights. Snow was falling in airy flakes, brushed away like scraps of lace by the creaking windshield wipers. Ellie’s eyes gazed ahead. Her mouth was set in a determined line. Jubal knew that look. She wasn’t happy with him. Maybe he should have agreed to come to supper, or promised to go to the Christmas Ball with Gracie. But he’d never been much of a socializer. And right now he had more worries than he could mask with a friendly smile. He just couldn’t do it.

At the library she pulled up next to his truck and kept the engine running while he climbed out of the car. “So, we’re on for tomorrow night around seven?” she asked.

“Right. And thanks. I mean it, Ellie. You were a lot of help this morning.”

“You’re welcome and thanks for lunch.” She sounded like a polite stranger.

Jubal closed the car door and watched her drive away through the falling snow. During the few years he’d been married to Laura—and they’d been good years—he’d managed to convince himself that he was over Ellie. But he’d been wrong. She was back—like a remembered song that had never stopped playing in his head.

And the timing couldn’t have been worse.