by Lyn Cote
Pastor Bruce picked up a wooden gavel. "Now some counties have people rich in wealth. But here in Steadfast we are rich in willingness to help each other. Over the past two months, residents all around the county—many who are here tonight and some who weren't able to attend—have offered various skills and services to be auctioned off tonight to the highest bidders. Doc is over at the Conlon VFW hall at another auction like this one, and Dr. Doug is on duty at the clinic. Otherwise, they'd be here."
The basement door burst open and Wendy looked back—would it be Rodd or Sage and Trav? It was none of them. To her surprise, most of the men whom they had caroled for at Patsy and Carl's trooped inside. "Hey, Reverend!" Olie Olson called out. "Did we miss anything?"
"Not a thing." Pastor Bruce beamed at them. "Make yourselves comfortable—and I hope your wallets are full."
The men hooted at this and found places around the tables where they were welcomed. Wendy's heart warmed and she felt the tug to cry. Oh, Lord, soften their hearts so that they may see your love in action here.
Wearing a brighter smile, the pastor resumed, "The winning sums are essentially pledges, with one-twelfth of each pledge due each month to our new church secretary, Miss Mabel Frantz. Now with all the preliminaries taken care of, our first service to be auctioned is from Ma, soon to be Mrs. Bruno Havlecek." The pastor waited for the well-meaning teasing and cooing this occasioned to die down, then continued. "Ma will bake some fortunate soul a pie of his or her choice every month of this coming year. Now what will you bid for this culinary bonanza?"
The bidding started at ten dollars and ended up at fifty-two, bid by Olie Olson. The next service was for free driveway plowing for the rest of the winter and the beginning of the next winter by Harry, the auto repairman. Again bidding went fast, and the final bid came in at one hundred and sixty dollars. Before moving to the next bid, the pastor said, "I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Harry publicly for plowing out the church parking lot for free this winter."
Harry waved the pastor to stop. "My privilege."
Pastor Bruce smiled and moved on. Several more offers of service passed under the minister's gavel. Harlan kept announcing the total money. The figure mounted to just under seven hundred dollars. "Now our next service is a year of two days a month of housecleaning by Mrs. Benser."
As the pastor continued, the basement door opened, and Sage and Trav walked in. Wendy popped up and ran to the back of the room. Sage opened her arms and Wendy hugged her tightly. Missing Sage had been just under the surface throughout Christmas. Now Wendy could only hold Sage close and press back the tears.
Harlan came up behind her and put his arms around both granddaughters. "Welcome home, Sage," Grandfather rumbled close to Wendy's ear. "How is your mother?"
Sage pulled away from Wendy and kissed his cheek. "Mom's great, Gramps. She sends her love."
Harlan offered Trav, standing a little behind Sage, his hand. "Thanks for bringing her home safe, son."
Trav shook Harlan's hand but said nothing.
Wendy became aware of an undercurrent of emotion in Trav. He seemed anxious, jumpy—dark. Had Sage told him something about their mother that Sage didn't want to say in front of Grandfather? Sage glanced at Trav and looked worried about him. Mulling this over, Wendy led them to the table where she and Grandfather had been sitting. Sage took Trav's hand in hers as though he needed her support. Concern creased Wendy's forehead. What was wrong?
The bidding for the year of housecleaning was lively and reaching its end. Wendy looked to their pastor, who was doing a fine job of auctioneering. She knew how much the money would mean to Doc and Dr. Doug.
Clyde Sparrow raised his hand. "Two hundred and fifty dollars."
Veda spoke up for the first time. "And five dollars."
There was a momentary pause, and then Clyde countered, "Two hundred and sixty."
"And five," Veda added.
"Two hundred and seventy."
"And five." Veda grinned for the first time that evening.
Hostile murmuring rustled through the gathering. Clyde looked disgusted.
Wendy didn't blame him. He'd worked up the price and stayed with it until his competitors had dropped out. Now Veda, who hadn't bid earlier, was pushing the price up higher. Was that her game? Did she want to gouge Clyde? Why?
"Three hundred." Clyde declared and glared at Veda.
"And five." Veda crowed.
Silence, an uneasy one, fell over everyone. Something beyond the simple bidding was going on. Wendy folded her hands tightly in her lap so she didn't forget and bite her nails.
"Well, anybody going to bid against me?" Veda demanded, glee in her voice.
"Would it do any good?" Clyde continued to glare at her.
"No." Veda looked smug.
"Well, I have something to say—" Everyone turned to eye Mrs. Benser, who had stood up and was visibly bristling. "Veda McCracken, I wouldn't clean for you—"
Pastor Bruce held up both hands. "Please—"
"I'm sorry, Pastor." Mrs. Benser drew herself up. "But I've kept my peace for over fifty years about Veda McCracken's nastiness, and I won't put up with it anymore."
A bewildered hush fell over the room. The pastor tried to remonstrate with the woman but was ignored.
Wendy's heart turned over. Kind Mrs. Benser had been one of her first Sunday school teachers. Oh no, Lord, don't let evil in.
In the silent room filled with tense waiting, Mrs. Benser declared, "If I thought all you wanted, Veda, was to help out the clinic fund and have your house cleaned twice a month, I'd keep my mouth shut. But we both know—we all know—that you're doing this out of spite. You found out I was the one who exposed you as the Bazaar thief."
Veda sprang up onto her feet. "That's a lie!"
People gasped. Pastor Bruce tried to speak.
Ignoring everyone, Mrs. Benser pressed on. "And I know just what kind of mess I'd find at your house to clean up. You have never had a kind thought or done something good once in your whole life. And I'll withdraw my offer before I'll let it go to you." Mrs. Benser's face flushed pink. "You're here doing what comes natural to you—being nasty. You gave yourself over to the devil from the time we were children together. And I for one won't stand for it another minute."
Spontaneous applause burst over the room.
Pastor Bruce pounded his gavel, but in vain. People stood up and began to berate Veda for past grievances with her. Veda turned red in the face, but she returned fire—blasting long-dead relatives of those who dared confront her and shredding the reputations of the living.
Wendy thought she might be sick. How could evil take over this generous and giving evening and poison it? Trembling, she stood up and shouted, "Stop! Stop it."
Silence. All eyes turned to her.
"This isn't right. It isn't right." Wendy trembled. "We came here to help get a new doctor, not rip each other apart."
"But, Wendy, she's been mean to you your whole life." Olie put in.
Wendy faced Veda. "Yes, but I won't hate her. She hasn't won. I feel sorry for her."
Veda leaped to her feet.
"What's going on here?" Rodd's harsh voice boomed throughout the church basement. Everyone swiveled around. Scanning the gathering sternly, Rodd stood just inside the large room.
"Well, if it isn't our esteemed sheriff." Veda sneered. "Have you arrested the Snowmobile Burglar yet?"
Rodd made his way toward Wendy. People moved to let him through. "I will when the time is right. The investigation is proceeding."
"Ha." On that jeering note, Veda grabbed her coat and stalked out of the church.
"Good riddance," Patsy muttered, giving voice to the mood in the room.
Reaching for her, Rodd gripped Wendy's shoulder. "I'm thirsty. Will you help me get something to drink?" He offered her his hand.
Needing to get away, Wendy nodded and led him to the church kitchen. As they left the room, Pastor Bruce quietly awarded Mrs. Benser's housecleaning
to Clyde for two hundred and fifty dollars and began the bidding on Trav's offer to cut someone's grass for the coming summer.
Her emotions still in turmoil, Wendy concentrated on pouring Rodd a cup of cinnamon-fragrant spiced cider and cutting him a piece of pumpkin pie. She kept her eyes forward. "Do you want whipped topping?"
Coming up behind Wendy, he took the spoon from her hand and put it back in the open whipped-topping container. "What was that woman doing here?"
Wendy wouldn't meet his eyes. "She was just being Veda."
Turning her toward him, he lifted her chin. "What did she do? Did she hurt you?"
Quivering at his touch, she inhaled deeply to calm her shaking nerves. "She tried to get back at Mrs. Benser. "
"I take it that it didn't work." He pulled gently on her hands, tugging her into his arms.
"Rodd, we're at church," she objected, but she didn't pull away from his solid warmth.
"Is that all Veda did, try to intimidate Mrs. Benser? She didn't say anything directly to you, did she?"
His concern filled her with sunshine. She smiled and dipped her chin. "I'm fine. Did Veda steal from the Bazaar?""
He started to answer her but stopped himself. "You need to talk to Mrs. Benser about that. I've missed you." Parting her bangs, he kissed her forehead.
She blushed. "Someone might walk in," she whispered.
He shook his head. "Veda left. No one else would be so unkind."
Wendy looked up at him. "Veda didn't bother you with that remark about your investigation, did she?"
A smile lit his eyes. "I bothered her today."
"You did? How?"
He kissed her nose.
At his soft touch, she had trouble paying attention.
He ignored her question. "My deputies are all out. I just checked all the trouble spots, and I think I can see the new year in with you. Let's not spoil what's left of the evening discussing Veda McCracken."
Forcing herself to put Veda's unpleasantness behind her, she smiled. "If that's what you want." She wanted to ask him not to show everyone that their relationship had changed over Christmas, but she couldn't do that. He'd kissed her and taken her into his confidence about the past. But what did that mean to him, to her? Was she ready to make a change in the single life she'd planned? Or had the change already taken place and was she just realizing it? She let out a deep sigh "We'd better go back in before someone comes to get us."
"If you insist." He kissed her cheek and then picked up his pie and cider.
With a silly grin she couldn't wipe off her face, she led him back to the table where she'd been sitting. Her grin withered as she felt the unspoken attention of everyone as she and Rodd sat down together. What would everyone think?
Then she noticed that Bruno and Ma were holding hands as they watched the auction move toward the midnight celebration. Smiling inside, she glanced at her sister and Trav, who were also holding hands.
As she observed the young couple, Trav sent a resentful glare to Rodd. The look was so unexpected and out of character that she couldn't look away. Trav never got upset. In fact, his gentle nature was one of his most endearing traits. Was it just the sheriff or was Trav upset in general? She studied her sister's boyfriend from under her lashes. No, the signs were unmistakable. Trav fidgeted and couldn't keep himself from sending heated glances toward the sheriff.
Sipping his cider and letting it warm him inside, Rodd scanned the lively excitement of bidders, a complete contrast to his last few tense days—since the anonymous phone call. The caller ID at his home had given him the phone number, but it had led him to a dead end, a pay phone at the truck stop just across the county line. Of course, after a day crowded and busy with stranded truckers and travelers, no one there had any information to give him.
What had the caller meant about checking the snowmobiles? Rodd had scrutinized the machines belonging to the three main suspects— Elroy, Dutch, and Veda—and many more besides. Then he started calling people in for questioning. Nothing. He'd delayed doing any formal questioning before now, preferring to ask questions in passing. But he'd decided leaning on people might shake things up, bring something to light.
It hadn't. He was no further ahead tonight than he'd been before the anonymous phone call. The caller's voice had sounded like a man, but some women, including Veda, had deep voices. And the caller had taken care to disguise and muffle his voice.
A break. One little break was all Rodd needed to catch the thief. His only hope remained that the anonymous caller had been the Weasel himself and that he would become increasingly overconfident and give himself away. Galling as that was, it was all he could hope for now. Rodd glanced around the room, then at his watch. Ten minutes to the new year
Pastor Bruce turned to Harlan. "How are we doing?"
"Almost one thousand dollars." Harlan beamed.
"Then let's see how close we can get to twelve hundred by midnight." The pastor's words were greeted with shouts of encouragement.
Pastor Bruce went on. "Our next item is free baby-sitting, not to exceed ten hours a month, for a year from the lovely Carey sisters, Wendy and Sage. Who will open the bidding?"
Rodd sipped the sweet cider and wished he'd had time to take Wendy out this week. But their schedules hadn't coincided in the days after Christmas. Still, she'd popped into his thoughts at will. He'd never thought that in moving back to Steadfast he'd fall in love. Had he found in Wendy his wife? Only time would tell. He glanced at his watch again; the final minutes of this year were ticking away.
Two mothers refused to give up competing for the prize. They bid fast and furiously until one dropped out at seventy-eight dollars. "Thai's a bargain. Ladies, are the rest of you going to let this go for this price?" Pastor scanned the audience. "Going once, twice, sold!"
"It's New Year's!" Patsy called out.
Shouts of "Happy New Year" broke out all over the room. People stood up and hugged each other. "Auld Lang Syne" was sung. Rodd took Wendy's hand and pulled her close. "Happy New Year, Wendy."
She smiled up at him, filled with such joy. "I wish you the very best in the coming year."
"The same to you " And then he kissed her.
Wendy knew she should pull away, but she found it impossible to do. She clung to him, welcoming the feeling of being wanted by such a fine man. Rodd ended their kiss but kept her tucked close at his side. Wendy felt like she was floating. Lord, I never felt this way before. Do you have a different plan for my future than I do?
A storm in her eyes, Sage came around the table as Trav stalked away, giving Wendy and Rodd a wide berth. Sage glared at Rodd. "Wendy, Trav and I are going to the trailer." Over the surrounding gaiety, Sage's harsh voice didn't even sound like her. "He's not in the mood for more festivities tonight. We wouldn't have come, but I wanted to be here when they auctioned off our baby-sitting."
"What's wrong with Trav?" Wendy asked, glancing at Trav, who was waiting by the door.
"Ask your boyfriend," Sage snapped and marched away.
Chapter Eighteen
In the early frigid hours of the new year, Rodd parked his Jeep outside Wendy's trailer, right beside Trav's battered pickup. He glanced sideways at Wendy, sitting in the seat beside him. He couldn't believe the complete turnaround that had taken place between Wendy and him—all in a matter of moments. The joy he'd felt sitting beside Wendy at the auction, kissing her at midnight, letting everyone know he thought Wendy was wonderful—it was all gone. Now the only warmth in the Jeep was coming from the heater vents. "I don't know what to say ..."
"That's the truth."
He wouldn't have believed that Wendy could sound so stiff, so crushed. I hurt her. But how? Even after Veda's disruption of the auction, Wendy hadn't remained distressed. That changed when Sage had told Wendy to ask him why Trav was upset.
"I can't believe you called Trav in and questioned him about the burglaries," Wendy repeated.
Rodd had tried but failed twice to explain his actions and th
e reasoning behind them. How could he make her understand that part of his job was being unpopular at times? He had to do whatever it took to catch the burglar. He would use any lawful means to achieve that goal, including questioning Sage's boyfriend. He took a deep breath. "I questioned a lot of people. It's a technique to shake things up—to get people to talk—"
"People will talk all right." Wendy turned on him. "All his life, Trav's had to live down his family's reputation, which is even worse than my mother's family's. Did you know that Elroy almost forced himself on my mother once? Uncle Dutch came just in time to save her—but everyone knew. That's why they hate each other."
