by Judy Baer
Jack looked up from his breakfast, startled. “I suppose so. I’ve done some riding but never had the time to keep it up. I had a friend who owned a ranch. We lost touch, and I didn’t continue riding. That was a long time ago.”
Merry sat down across from him. “I have a friend who has horses too. I’ve been thinking of organizing a sleigh ride. Are you interested?”
“Sounds a little too Christmassy for me. Thanks for asking though.” He went back to his eggs.
“I’m asking for a reason. I’ve been trying to think of a way to do something nice for Greta and her family, something that involves others. I know sleigh rides border on having the Christmas spirit, but these people may not have a real Christmas so why not a memorable holiday event?”
She looked straight into his eyes. “Frankly, I need people who know the situation and will make them feel comfortable. Abby and her husband have agreed to come and so have my pastor and his wife. With Greta’s family, me, and my friend Jeff, who owns the horses, that makes nine people. A full sleigh is ten. So if you’d agree, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else to fill that last spot.”
Jack squirmed a little so she hurried to add, “Besides, it will be fun. Jeff has beautiful horses, and he’s got a wonderful voice. We can sing carols and—and—” She stammered to a stop, realizing what she’d just suggested. “Or not.”
Much to her amazement, without any argument whatsoever, Jack said, “I’ll do it. For that little girl. Not because it’s Christmas.”
“Deal.” Merry extended a hand to shake.
When his fingers encased hers in a strong grip, she felt fragile and delicate. The handshake seemed as personal as an embrace. She pulled away and averted her eyes.
“Good. I’ll count on you then. Tomorrow night after you come back from Blue Earth.”
She quickly escaped the kitchen, but she felt Jack’s gaze boring into her back.
* * * * *
Now why had he gone and done that? Jack gripped the steering wheel of his rental car as he drove toward Blue Earth. The road was icy, and the last thing he needed was to go into the ditch. Everything he was finding out at the courthouse was giving him fits, and he didn’t need more trouble.
But he’d already generated more trouble. He’d agreed to go on a sleigh ride, of all things. Why had he . . . ?
It wasn’t hard to figure out the answer. He’d said yes because he wanted to get a good look at Merry’s friend Jeff.
She’d dropped Jeff’s name enough times in casual conversation to make him curious. He felt oddly protective of her, this woman who wore her heart on her sleeve and would give everything she had if she thought someone needed it. She’d treated him far better than he’d deserved those first couple days he was in Frost. He appreciated that more than she could know.
It was really going to happen, this sleigh ride, Jack observed as he arrived at Merry’s Christmas Boutique at six the next evening. There were two huge Percheron horses hooked to something that looked like a large open box on runners. It was filled with soft mounds of loose hay and piles of cozy blankets.
The regal-looking horses stood at least nineteen hands high and had to weigh a ton or more each. Their large, prominent eyes seemed to take in everything, and they stood surprisingly still considering the excitement around them.
Greta was particularly rambunctious, running alongside the horses from their noses to their tails and then back again. Her mother was trying to convince the little girl to stand still but to no avail. Abby and her husband, Charley, were chatting with Pastor Ed Nordstrom and his wife, Betty. Merry, dressed in a green down coat and red Santa’s hat, carried thermoses and plastic containers full of food to the rig. She handed the parcels up to a ruggedly good-looking man with three days’ worth of grizzled stubble, short and slightly tousled hair, and a wide white grin—especially when he smiled down at Merry. He wore jeans and a thick buffalo plaid jacket. On the wagon seat lay a fur hat—flaps and all—and a pair of thick gloves.
Nothing to criticize there, Jack realized. This guy was perfect for the role he was playing tonight. He was the rugged horseman, impervious to cold and snow and obviously smitten with Merry. She, however, seemed oblivious to Jeff’s flirtatious smiles.
Jack was overdressed in his suit jacket and highly polished shoes. He waved at the group and ducked into the house to change clothes. The night was getting cold fast.
“Come meet Greta and her parents,” Merry ordered when he returned. “You know Abby and Charley and remember Pastor Ed and Betty from church.” She made introductions and pointed at Jeff, who was up on the seat. “These horses are Jeff’s gorgeous girls. Aren’t they something?” She pointed to the horses, which Jack noticed had large red bows fastened to the tops of their tails.
Merry counted off her list on her fingers. “Cocoa, graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate . . .”
“We’re going to have s’mores?” Greta screeched with delight.
“And tuna sandwiches with chips to eat while we ride. Oh yes, and music.” She produced an old battery-operated radio that looked as though it should have been put in the garbage twenty-five years earlier.
Jack tried to stay out of the way of the merrymakers—who were enjoying this adventure far more than he—by burrowing into a mound of hay inside the rim of bales Jeff had placed around the perimeter of the sleigh.
He might have succeeded in going unnoticed had not Greta chosen him to be her new best friend.
* * * * *
Greta had cornered Jack, Merry noticed. Good for her. Let him try to be the Grinch around such a child! Discreetly Merry edged her way closer to the pair so she could hear what Greta was saying.
The little girl shook him by the shoulder until he looked at her. Then, with eyes so round they looked like full moons, she asked, “Are you really Jack Frost? Miss Merry read a book about Jack Frost at school.”
“She did, did she?” Jack shot Merry a questioning glance.
She was glad for the darkness, which hid the blush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks.
“He was friends with Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.” Greta leaned closer to Jack. “Do you really know Frosty?”
Merry stifled a giggle. Then an unpleasant thought struck her. She hoped Jack wouldn’t disappoint Greta with his answer.
“Well, the thing is . . .” He cleared his throat as if stalling for time.
Merry stiffened.
“The thing is that I live in California, Greta, and it’s very warm in California all year long. Frosty hates that kind of weather, so he’s never in the state.”
“Oh.” Greta sounded disappointed, but she bounced back quickly. “How can you freeze things if you live in California?”
Jack cleared his throat. “Frosty doesn’t like to fly on airplanes, but I do.”
Greta’s face cleared. “So if you want to, you can go to cold places!”
“I’m here right now, aren’t I?”
The little girl clapped her hands. “And that’s why we have icicles!”
Merry was delighted. Jack hadn’t lied exactly, nor had he disappointed the child with his answer.
As Merry turned away, she saw Greta climbing onto Jack’s lap. “Can you tell me about the North Pole? Just how big are the elves anyway?”
Merry turned her attention to Greta’s mother and step-father. The young couple sat close together, leaning on a bale and holding hands through bulky mittens. “How are you doing?”
“It’s so good to get out and do something fun for a change.” Stephanie turned to her husband, whom she’d introduced as Wayne. “Isn’t it, honey?”
Wayne nodded somberly. “We’ve had a string of really bad luck lately. Neither of us have found jobs yet, and we couldn’t pay the rent so we lost our place. We are so grateful to the shelter to let us stay there and keep Greta in school. Anyway, it’s good to laugh again. Thanks for having us.”
“Greta talks about you at school. I thought
you two could use a break.”
Stephanie and Wayne exchanged glances. “We’re grateful for the help we’ve been given. I’ve been doing some job interviews,” Wayne said. “I think I’ll be able to find something in Blue Earth. Then we can look for housing.”
“And I’ll look for work,” Stephanie added. “We have bills to pay, and Greta could certainly use some clothing that didn’t come from secondhand stores and rummage sales.”
“I wish you all the best,” Merry said with all her heart.
Then Pastor Ed weighed in on the conversation. “I told them I thought the church could help them with groceries. And our janitor is complaining more and more about his knees and how he needs one replaced. I told Wayne that he should apply for the job to fill in while Melvin is recovering. Every little bit helps.”
“How kind!” Stephanie’s forehead creased. “But when we get on our feet, I want to give back any way I can.”
“It’s a deal,” Pastor Ed said. “Thank you.”
Stephanie favored him with a satisfied smile.
“Tell me more about yourselves,” Pastor Ed encouraged.
“There’s not much to tell,” Stephanie said. “We’ve been married two years and, as you can tell, we haven’t had an easy start. I was in a bad state when I met Wayne, but we’ve finally gotten past all that. When my first husband died . . . Losing him brought me to my knees. If it weren’t for the fact I had to take care of Greta and that I met Wayne, I’m not sure what would have happened to me. I thank God that He found me and lifted me out of the morass my life had become, before I made it even worse. . . .” Stephanie grew silent and pensive.
Merry wished the woman would continue but sensed that Greta’s mother had already said more than she’d meant to. Her heart ached for the young woman who’d already suffered so much. What else had Stephanie endured?
Jack, Stephanie, Hildy—they all had secrets they were reluctant to share.
Merry’s attention drifted to the conversation Jack was having with Greta. She had to admit he was a great sport about Greta’s fascination with him.
“He also likes to play tricks on people,” Jack was saying, referring to his namesake, “like cold toes and fingers. Have you ever had those?”
“Oh yes.” The child’s eyes were big as the moon. “You did that?”
Merry smiled to herself and cuddled deep beneath her blanket.
The crunch of the snow under the runners of the sleigh, the jingle of bells, and the soft sounds of the horses lulled them all into a tranquil silence.
About thirty minutes into the ride, Merry struggled to her feet and moved toward Jeff on the driver’s seat.
“How’s it going?”
“Good.” He looked down at her with a smile. “Do you want to hike up here with me?”
Merry didn’t see Jack staring at her in the darkness or the expression of displeasure on his features as she scrambled onto the seat beside Jeff.
“That’s more like it,” he said, pleasure in his voice. “You know I always like it best when you’re by my side.”
“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere with me,” Merry informed him cheerily as she grabbed a blanket and put it over her knees.
“Tell me about it.” Jeff’s voice was warm, throaty, and intimate, as if they were alone in the world. “What will get to you, Merry? I’ve tried everything I know.”
“Be my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“Good!” she said delightedly. “Because, if you are my friend, you won’t pursue this conversation any longer. Right?”
Jeff groaned but then leaned over and kissed Merry’s cheek. “Okay, keep playing hard to get. I’m a patient man.”
They rode in silence until she abruptly lifted her hands to the sky. “Look at all the stars! How amazing it is! It’s like the Bible says, ‘He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good.’ Neat, huh?”
Jeff was too busy to answer. He directed the horses to stop, jumped down, held out his hands to Merry, lifted her off the seat, and planted her on the snowy ground.
The others stood up, curious, and looked around.
Jeff quickly lit the campfire he’d apparently built earlier and began helping the others to the ground.
There were split logs in a circle around the fire, a stash of sticks peeled and pointed on one end for marshmallows, and a red-and-white cooler on the ground.
Greta ran around the log circle squealing with delight. “A bonfire! A bonfire!”
She came up to Merry. “I’ve heard of a bonfire, Miss Merry, and I saw a picture, but I never thought I’d get to see a real one!”
“Sometimes the simple things are the best.” Merry started at the sound of Jack’s voice in her ear.
“Yes. Greta reminds me of that all the time. I’ll never take a bonfire for granted again.” Merry smiled up into his eyes and noticed the tender expression on his face. Feeling a little off-center at his look, she added, “You can be the first to help Greta roast a marshmallow. She adores you, you know.”
“Adore is a pretty strong word, but I will agree she likes me.” He chuckled as if recognizing the irony in his next statement. “Of course, who wouldn’t? I’m a winter celebrity around here.” Then he reached for one of the sticks and took a marshmallow out of the bag Jeff was passing around.
While he and Greta roasted marshmallows, Merry stood back, evaluating her feelings.
She liked Jeff. She really did. But she was also cautious because she knew herself too well. What she loved was the idea of family, kids, relatives, relationships. If she were honest, she loved that idea more than any of the men she had dated. She couldn’t rush into marriage just for the family unit it would bring.
The man she married had to be the most important thing. Until she could trust herself to discern that she was in love for love’s sake and nothing else, would she settle down? Jeff’s family was big, rowdy, and fun. But was that enough reason to marry Jeff? Hardly. Only time would help her sort out her feelings for him or for any of the men who currently pursued her.
It was all too complicated. She was all too complicated. Until someone came along and was willing to sort this out with her, she would remain single.
Then she realized that several people were yelling just outside the ring of light thrown by the fire. She hurried over to find Greta and Jack making huge wet snow angels, their arms and legs spreading and closing gracefully, creating the look of bodies with full skirts and wings on the pristine palette of snow.
Merry wondered if that counted as a miracle, Jack playing in the snow with the child. He’d as much as said he didn’t even like fun. Yet here he was, having plenty.
“Miss Merry, come and make a snow angel!” Greta called.
Impulsively, Merry dropped to the ground beside Greta and began to move her arms and legs in graceful arcs. Their laughter capped the festive mood.
Greta and Jack rolled a snowman while Merry set out the food, and after they’d eaten, Jeff brought out his guitar and they began to sing Christmas carols. Pastor Ed’s low, rumbly voice led them. Stephanie had a sweet, clear soprano, and the others followed along.
Jack didn’t even issue a complaint.
He was a different man tonight, Merry observed. For once he’d let down his guard and allowed himself to actually enjoy the music. He was even smiling, which warmed her heart. No one should spend his or her life in such emotional pain. If only there were some way she could help . . .
The ride home was quiet, each pondering the evening, deep in their own thoughts. Greta immediately fell asleep on her mother’s lap. Merry found herself beside Jack. She was enormously gratified by the way things had turned out and grateful to Jack that he’d made the evening so much fun for Greta. He wasn’t such a bad guy, just a little skittish about the holidays. Not that she could blame him. She had her own childhood issues
about the season—and she hadn’t lost a twin brother.
Her guests dispersed immediately upon returning to the boutique.
“All that fresh air wore us out,” Pastor Ed announced as his wife yawned. “We’ll all sleep well tonight.”
Even Jeff was tired and eager to get his team home, so he departed with the rest of them. That left Jack and Merry on the top step waving good-bye to the group.
“Thanks for bullying me into going, Merry. It was more fun than I expected,” Jack said.
“You’re welcome. Greta is crazy about you.”
“Sweet little girl. Nice parents. Too bad they’ve had so much trouble.” He studied her face in the moonlight. “And it was very thoughtful of you to plan an outing with them in mind. You’re very considerate, Merry.” He wore just a hint of a smile. “I like that in a woman.”
And he disappeared into the house, leaving Merry on the step staring after him in stunned surprise.
Chapter Twelve
• • • • • • • • • • • •
It was ten o’clock and Jack hadn’t come down for breakfast. Merry was glad she’d decided on French toast this morning. Anything else would have been burned to a crisp by now. She put the orange juice back into the refrigerator, wiped the already clean countertops, and put a jug of apple cider and spices on to heat for the afternoon customers. Still no Jack.
Maybe he hadn’t planned to go to Blue Earth today and just forgot to tell her.
But Jack never forgot anything. His mind was like the proverbial steel trap. It was also part of his problem. He still remembered every detail of his brother’s death, unable to erase it from his mind. The story was fresh every day for Jack, and he’d been living with that all his life.
At eleven, Merry decided to take matters into her own hands. Surely the man wouldn’t sleep for more than twelve hours . . . would he?
She straightened out her Christmas moose sweater and brushed the front of her green corduroys, pushed her pale hair behind her ears, and pulled back her shoulders. Mind made up, she headed for the second floor bedroom where Jack slept.
She raised her hand to knock on his door, but before she could, she heard a rough, grating cough inside the room. Merry tested the doorknob. Unlocked. “Jack?” she ventured. Another cough. She pushed the door ajar.
