by Janet Dailey
Tonight’s kiss had proved that the old chemistry still simmered. But chemistry wasn’t enough to hold two people together. He’d learned that ten years ago, and the lesson was worth remembering.
Holding that thought, he drifted into sleep.
* * *
Friday night, true to his promise, Jubal cleared a corner of the living room, lugged the tree inside, and set it up in the stand. Gracie was beside herself with excitement. She put a CD in the small boom box and danced around the room as he added water to the stand and opened the big box of decorations he’d brought down from the attic.
“Just smell that tree!” she said, hugging him around the waist. “The whole house smells like Christmas!”
Jubal lifted out the strings of colored lights. With Gracie helping, he laid them out along the floor and plugged them into the wall to make sure they were working. Then they draped them over and around the tree. Lit, in the darkened room, the effect was magical.
“Want to leave it like this for a night or two?” Jubal suggested. “We can always add the ornaments and tinsel later.”
“Let’s get it all done tonight,” Gracie said. “If it takes a while, I can stay up past my bedtime. Tomorrow is Saturday.”
Jubal opened the smaller boxes, holding the carefully packed ornaments that Laura had chosen and loved—shiny gold balls, glittery snowflakes, and little figures of elves, angels, reindeer, and Santas. This was the fifth Christmas without her, but hanging these small treasures never seemed to get any easier.
This year Gracie was tall enough to stand on a step stool and decorate even the higher parts of the tree. Jubal handed her the ornaments and steadied her balance while she fastened the wire hooks to the lush, green branches.
“This is nice,” she said, “but it would be even nicer if Ellie was here.”
“Ellie has her own family. They’ll have their own Christmas tree at home.”
“She just has her mom. And Beau. They could all come over and have fun helping.”
“That’s not how it works, Gracie.” Jubal hoped to hell she wouldn’t ask him to explain because he wouldn’t know where to begin.
Gracie was silent while he helped her climb off the stool. “It seems like you and Ellie kind of like each other,” she said. “Maybe you should think about getting married.”
The glass ball Jubal was holding dropped from his hand and shattered on the hardwood floor. “Get me the broom and dustpan out of the kitchen,” he said, hoping the subject would be forgotten. But he should have known he wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Did you hear what I said?” Gracie handed him the broom and dustpan. “I said maybe you and Ellie should get married.”
“Ellie and I are just friends.” Jubal began sweeping up the shards of broken glass. “Besides, she’s about to have a baby.”
“Uh-huh.” Gracie sat on the step stool to keep her feet out of the way. “It’s a little girl. She told me. That would be all right. I’d like having a baby sister.”
“Maybe so. But I’m not the baby’s father.” Jubal was digging himself in deeper and deeper. Gracie was a farm girl so she knew the basics. But she might not have figured out how they applied to humans, and this was no time to tell her.
“That doesn’t matter,” Gracie said. “If you took care of the baby and loved it, you would be the father.”
Wise words. Jubal felt the sting as he emptied the broken glass into the waste bin. “There’s something you need to understand about Ellie,” he said. “She grew up in Branding Iron. But a small town was never where she wanted to be. She left as soon as she was out of high school, and she only came back to visit her family.”
He would leave out part of the story—how Ellie had chosen to leave town for good rather than marry him and spend her life on the ranch. “After her marriage ended, she found out she was going to have a baby. Because she didn’t want to be alone, she came home to Branding Iron.”
“So her mom could help her.”
“That’s right. But Ellie only came home to have her baby. As soon as she’s ready to take care of the baby on her own, she’ll leave.”
“But where will she go?” Gracie’s eyes were large and sad.
“Most likely to some big city. That’s the life she likes—lots of people, lots of things to do. She’d never be happy in Branding Iron.”
“How do you know?” Gracie asked.
“She told me ten years ago, when she left for the first time. And I don’t think there’s anything you or I could do to change her mind.” He put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I just don’t want you to be sad when she leaves. Okay?”
“Okay.” Gracie climbed off the stool. Taking a length of tinsel from the box, she began draping it over the branches of the tree. Following her lead, Jubal took another strand and started higher up.
This tree would be as pretty as any they’d ever decorated. But a bit of the holiday magic had faded.
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 “chari
ty” 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 someth
ing 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.
OIL FIELD RUMORED SOUTH OF BRANDING IRON
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.”
