can come, too.” The little boy leaned closer to Zach and confided, “She told me there’s no Santa at the North Pole.” The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She has to do dishes for a month all by herself if I show her that Santa lives there. It’s a bet.”
Jenny saw her son’s blond head leaning close to the man’s dark one. The man’s arm had gone around her son’s shoulders and they were whispering about something she couldn’t make out. She knew children liked their secrets, but she wasn’t sure she wanted this cowboy to share them.
“Mr. Lucas needs to leave soon, Andy,” Jenny reminded her son as she picked up the camera from the counter. Lisa had insisted she was too old for a Santa picture, so Jenny only had to worry about Andy. “Why don’t you go get your letter for him, and I’ll take your picture while you give it to him.”
“It’s here,” Andy said as he moved away from Zach enough to pull a crumpled letter out of his pocket. He handed it up to Zach. “I’ve been saving it.”
The camera flash went off as Jenny snapped a picture.
“I’ll deliver it express mail.” Zach blinked as he took the letter in his hand. The woman hadn’t even given him time to force a smile. “You can trust the U.S. Postal Service.” Zach saluted the boy even though, as far as he knew, the postal service had never had a salute of any kind. But it seemed to reassure the boy.
Zach stood up and looked at the woman. “If you want, you can try a second picture.”
Jenny looked at him.
“I wasn’t smiling.” Zach almost swore. It wasn’t his idea to have his picture in some family album, but if his picture was going to be there it seemed only right that he be smiling.
Jenny shrugged. “The beard covers most of your face anyway.”
Zach nodded. If the woman didn’t care if Santa was smiling, he shouldn’t care. It did make him wonder what Christmas was coming to, however. If anyone should be smiling at Christmas, it was Santa and his helpers. “It’s your picture.”
“Did you get my letter in the picture?” the boy asked.
The woman nodded.
“I drew the stamp myself.” The boy looked up at Zach. “Mom said it was all right.”
Zach bent down and shook the boy’s hand for further assurance. “It’s just the right kind of stamp.”
The kitchen had a window by the sink and one on the opposite wall. The sky was gray out of both windows, and Zach heard the rattle of the wind as it gathered force.
He watched as Jenny pulled the stub of a picture out of the camera.
“Here.” Jenny held the camera out to him.
Zach shook his head. “The doc said you were to keep it over the holidays in case you want to take more pictures.”
“Well, that’s kind of you.”
“Not me. It’s Delores.” Zach shuffled his feet. He wasn’t used to getting so much credit for things he didn’t even do.
“I better get out of here before the storm hits.” Zach pulled his Santa hat back on his head. No one had flipped any light switches, and the light coming into the windows was thin. Fortunately, he could hear the hum of the furnace and a floor vent blew a steady stream of warm air into the room. At least the family had heat.
Zach looked over at the woman who held a still-developing picture in her hand. “You’re sure you’ll be all right now in this storm? If you need to call anyone on the telephone to come sit this storm out with you, I’d do it now. The lines might go down anytime now.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” Jenny said. She smiled confidently as if she had someone to call.
Zach nodded. He figured that cereal box wasn’t the only reason the woman wouldn’t go out with him. She must have a boyfriend. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised. The doctor had as much as told him she did. Some rancher—what was his name? Max something.
“Well, I’ll leave, then,” Zach said as he walked toward the door. “I’ll close the door quick behind me so you keep your heat in.”
Jenny watched the man walk to the door. Suddenly she didn’t want him to leave. There was a blizzard coming and she didn’t know what to expect. Even a cereal-box cowboy was better than no one when it came to facing a storm. But she couldn’t ask him to stay. He was a stranger, for goodness sake. Just because she was used to telling her troubles to his face didn’t mean he had any obligation to her.
“You’ve got holiday plans?” she squeaked out as he put his hand on the doorknob.
He turned around and looked at her. “Vegas.”
“Oh. I see. Well, have fun.”
Jenny could kick herself. Of course, the man had plans. It was Christmas, after all. Everyone had plans.
“Thanks.” Zach hesitated. “I could change them if—”
“Of course you can’t change them.” Jenny stiffened her resolve. “I was just asking because I…I mean we…we have plans of our own and I was hoping you had plans, too.”
“I see. Thanks.” Zach turned the knob this time. No sense staying where someone had plans that didn’t include him.
Zach leaned into the wind as he walked to the postal truck. The sky was getting darker in the east. A spray of snowflakes hit his face, even with the beard pulled up. He noticed that he hadn’t closed the back door to the postal truck completely. He walked over and snapped it shut. He didn’t want a chill at his back while he raced this storm back to Deep Gulch.
Zach started the engine on the postal truck and released the brake. Time to get back. It was probably too late to beat the storm to the pass. Unless he missed his guess, he’d be sleeping in the horse trailer tonight while Thunder boarded at the doctor’s barn. In a few hours no one would be doing much driving. Zach just hoped he made it back to the doctor’s before the roads were snowed shut.
He could feel the hard boards of that trailer on his back already.
It was going to be some merry Christmas.
Chapter Three
Andy wanted a peanut butter sandwich.
“Just let me be sure the oil lamp is filled and I’ll make you one,” Jenny said as she watched the tail-lights of the postal truck pull away. The red lights were the only bright thing in the dark gray of the afternoon. A layer of snow had already fallen and she could see the tire tracks of the truck.
Jenny had made a mental list over a week ago of the things she needed to do to prepare for a winter storm. Making sure the lamp was full was the first one. The other was to be sure the curtains were drawn on all the windows so that there was a little extra insulation. Delores had insisted Jenny buy a case of beans and another of assorted soup when she moved here. The older woman had also urged her to always keep the propane tank that fed the furnace at least half-full.
“Heat and food is all you really need,” the older woman had said. “If your pipes freeze you’ll more than likely still have snow around that you can melt for water. Not that it’s as pure as you might think. I’d get some water filters if I were you and run the melted water through them. Outside of that, keep healthy and you’ll do fine.”
Jenny didn’t feel as if she was doing fine. She hadn’t been able to get any filters for water. But the small stove in the kitchen fed off the propane tank out back so she could use that to boil snow water if necessary.
Just keep focused, she reminded herself. Like Delores had said, she’d do just fine.
Ten minutes passed before she realized Delores was wrong. Jenny wasn’t fine. She’d made one big mistake. The