street with a fenced lawn, it was winter and no grass was growing. It felt strange to remember how he used to envy the kids who lived in these houses.
Fortunately, by now he knew a man could have a good life without a family. And Christmas passed just fine with a drive-thru hamburger and fries.
He shook his head slightly so the memory of the red-haired woman wouldn’t sit so clearly in his mind. He didn’t need to mess up his life by dreaming about her. She was like that coconut cake. Something nice to dream about, but nothing that was likely to ever come his way. He was glad the sheriff had tipped him to the fact that the women around here were planning for her to marry Conrad—that is, if the sheriff wasn’t wrong and she didn’t end up back in jail instead.
He stopped a minute; he didn’t like thinking of her in a place like that. Then he sighed. His radar was good. That probably meant she was guilty as sin. Fortunately, it must also mean the church going was only a façade. If it was, he would have more in common with her than he thought. Suddenly, he was glad he was picking her up for dinner. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know her a little bit better. Maybe she wasn’t as much of an angel as she wanted people to think she was.
Chapter Three
Jasmine pulled the white curtain back from the kitchen window and looked out at her father’s farm. She wished she could just forget about Wade Sutton. The view out this window usually soothed her. Late-day shadows made the deep red barn look almost black. Even though it was winter, there was very little snow. Behind the barn, a mixture of dried wheat stalks and tall weeds spread over the slight hill. Night would be here soon, but she could still see well enough.
Just looking out that far made her eyes feel restful after being in prison for so long. There were no concrete buildings or search lights in sight. Unfortunately, what her eyes kept coming back to was the new post on the hill. She could barely see it in the gathering dusk, but she knew it rose up in the area to the left of the barn where the barbed-wire fence trailed up the hill.
Most of the wire fence on Elmer’s ranch sagged comfortably, but that particular section was stretched tight and kept in good repair. He said he wanted the divide clear between his land and the Sutton place.
Her father was a stubborn man. Clarence Sutton was another.
Several weeks ago, Clarence’s old donkey had wandered out of its barn, down the road and into her father’s lane. The animal had probably been looking for something to eat, but her father believed his neighbor had deliberately sent the donkey over to do mischief. Clarence, he said, always knew where his animals were and the donkey had a reputation for biting people. It had taken a bucket of oats to lure the donkey back to her barn and Clarence hadn’t even come out of his house to say a proper thank-you.
Last week, in retaliation, her father had dug a hole and put a twelve-foot metal cross on the top of the hill that divided the two ranches. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, today he’d taken several heavy-duty electrical cords and ran them from the barn up to the cross so he could wrap strands of Christmas tree lights around it. Now, in the evening, he could walk out to the barn and flip a switch and the cross would flash with white and yellow and clear lights. It would all look like a big golden cross that some televangelist would use.
Jasmine shook her head as she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see her father walk into the kitchen from the living room. He was wearing jeans and a dark denim shirt with snap buttons. His white hair was plastered back and he had a look of glee on his weathered face. “Time to turn on those lights.”
“Maybe you should wait and talk to Mr. Sutton before you do that,” Jasmine said. “He might not like them and—”
She’d told her father she was going to dinner at the Walls’, but she hadn’t told him she was being picked up by Wade. The way her father fumed about that donkey of Clarence’s, she doubted he’d be any more welcoming to the man’s grandson. If everything stayed calm, though, there was a chance her father wouldn’t see who was driving the car. He might just assume it was the sheriff behind the wheel.
“I’m celebrating Christmas. If old man Sutton doesn’t like the lights, he can just look the other way.” Her father picked a jacket off the coatrack by the door. “I got those special outdoor bulbs and I intend to use them—outside where they belong.”
It suddenly struck Jasmine that the reason the people of Dry Creek might be so excited she was in the pageant was because they hoped she’d work a miracle between these two men. Maybe she should give it a try.
“It’s not right,” Jasmine declared when her father had his hand on the doorknob. “Christmas should bring people together. Decorations aren’t something you use to annoy your neighbors.”
Elmer turned to her. “Of course, Christmas brings people together. That’s why I put the thing up there. Besides, an old sinner like Sutton should get down on his knees instead of complaining about Christmas anyway.”
“You’ll be using a lot of electricity with those lights.” Jasmine tried a different argument. She didn’t want to hear another list of Mr. Sutton’s shortcomings. “And they’re not energy-efficient bulbs.”
“I’ve got nothing better to do with my money than pay the electric company,” Elmer said as he opened the door. “I’ve already bought you that Christmas present and you won’t take the rest.”
Cold air came into the room.
“I’m practicing poverty,” she said. She was working on all of the attributes of the Christian life. She’d found a pamphlet and she was targeting the hardest ones first. “I don’t need more money.”
Elmer had started to walk through the door, but he turned around to look at her. “That’s why I’m buying you—”
“I don’t need jewels, either,” Jasmine added quickly. Her father had shown her the picture of a ten-thousand-dollar diamond-and-ruby necklace that he said he was buying for her. Ten thousand dollars! She hoped it was an empty promise.
“Every woman needs jewels,” Elmer snapped back. “It gives her security. I should have given some to your mother. And my wife, too.”
With that, he stomped out into the darkness.
Jasmine looked up at the clock on the wall. She didn’t want to argue with her newly found father again tonight. She knew it was guilt that was driving him and she’d have a hard time making him understand.
She didn’t care what holiday it was, real people didn’t wear necklaces like that. Not unless they wanted thieves to buzz around every time they walked out of their houses. Besides, she wanted to walk by faith. Her father was wrong; a woman wasn’t pushed to have as much faith when she had that many diamonds hanging around her neck.
She’d have to talk to her father later just to make sure he understood. In the meantime, Wade would be here in five minutes. She had planned to do a quick check on her lipstick so she stepped to the oval mirror hanging in the hallway.
She didn’t know why she was making such a big deal of her appearance since this wasn’t a date, but she wanted to look her best. Not that Wade would care if she wore a brown paper bag over her head. Her hand stopped. She wondered if she was guilty of the sin of vanity.
She sighed. She’d never thought there were so many pitfalls in the Christian life. Trying to make oneself worthy of God’s acceptance was not easy. People kept saying God didn’t care if she was an ex-con, but she just didn’t see it that way.
Jasmine took her perfume bottle out of her purse before she realized. Of course, that was it. It was amazing that she hadn’t seen it. No wonder Wade didn’t offer any friendliness. She was an ex-con. He was a lawman. He probably saw them as oil and water; sin and righteousness—good and evil.
Well, that was probably best for both of them.
She went ahead and sprayed perfume on her wrists. She was determined to be like the other women in Dry Creek and she looked to Edith for inspiration. The older woman