Page 20 of The Sound of Sleighbells

Using two of the dinner rolls, Judd slathered the cut surfaces with mayo and mustard, added a slice of cheese and most of the turkey. As he turned to give it to Digger, he noticed how the overhead light cast a ghostly pallor over the man’s skin. Judd knew that look. After five years with a minimum of sunlight, he’d been just as pale in the weeks after his release.

He filled a mug with coffee and passed it across the table. “So, Digger, how long have you been out?”

“About three weeks.” Digger’s surprise morphed into a slow grin. “I guess it takes one to know one.”

“How long, and what were you in for? Since you’re sitting at my table, I have a right to ask.”

“Four years. Dealing. Crystal meth, mostly. And a little heroin. It wasn’t like I hurt anybody. Just giving folks what they wanted.”

Judd didn’t have to ask whether Digger had done drugs, too. They all did. “And what now?” he asked. “Are you clean?”

“Hell, yes. My parole officer’s in Cottonwood Springs. Mean sonofabitch. I gotta pee in a cup every time I check in.”

Judd studied his old friend from across the table as Digger took a big bite of the sandwich, washed it down with coffee, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Saving Digger on that long-ago night had ended one man’s life and cost Judd five years of his freedom, not to mention any chance of a future with the girl he’d loved.

Seeing this wreck of a man and what he’d become made Judd feel sick inside. All that loss—and Digger probably didn’t even care.

Judd took a deep breath, dismissing the thought for now. “So, what brings you out this way, Digger?” he asked.

Digger shrugged. “I heard you’d cleaned up your act and made good on your old family ranch. I want to do the same—turn my life around and make a fresh start. But for now, I’ve got no place to go. I was hoping you could give me a bed and some work, just till I can get on my feet.”

Judd sighed. He should have known this was coming. If he had any sense, he would just say no. But how could he turn a needy man out in weather cold enough to freeze fingers and toes?

“I can’t offer anything in the way of work,” he said. “My herd is sold down to breeding stock for the winter. A couple of cowboys who live with their families show up every day to take care of the cows and horses. And my saddle-making business is strictly a one-man operation.”

Digger was gazing at him like a sick puppy. Judd willed himself to ignore a jab of guilt as he continued.

“My house isn’t set up for company. But since you’ve no place to go, you can stay in the bunkhouse for a few nights. There’s an electric space heater and a kitchenette with a hot plate and a microwave. There might be some coffee and a few cans on the shelf, and I’ll load up a bag of staples from this kitchen. I wish I could be more accommodating, but this is my busy season. I’m up to my ears in work, and I didn’t plan on having anybody drop in. You’ll be on your own.”

“I understand.” Digger finished the last of his sandwich. “I’ve got just one more favor to ask. If you’ve got a can with gas in it, could you drive me out to my bike? I don’t want to leave it in the weather all night.”

It was a reasonable request. Judd rose to his feet. “Sure. There’s a full can in the shed. We’ll take the truck. And I’ll turn on the heater in the bunkhouse before we leave, so it’ll be warm when you get back.”

Digger grinned. “Thanks, Judd. You’re a real pal. You saved my life once, and I promise not to make you sorry.”

Judd was already sorry.

As he filled a paper bag with eggs, bread, butter, jam, and a few frozen dinners, Digger’s words sank home. They were calculated to put him at ease, he knew. But they had the opposite effect. His old friend was a drug dealer, a freeloader, and an opportunist who had his own reasons for being here.

He didn’t want the man in his house, and he didn’t want him around the boys who’d be coming to work tomorrow. But he couldn’t turn a dog out in weather like this.

The bunkhouse was frigid, but the heater was working. Judd turned it on and left the groceries on the counter and the backpack on a chair. Then, with the gas can in the bed of the truck, they set off back down the lane. The storm was moving out, but the road was icy. Even with four-wheel drive, Judd had to keep the truck to a crawl.

“Say, what became of that pretty girl who used to hang out with you?” Digger asked. “Ruth. Wasn’t that her name? You two were hot and heavy, as I remember. I wouldn’t mind looking her up, just for old times’ sake.”

Judd felt a rush of cold anger. Ruth didn’t need this kind of trouble. “She was smart enough not to wait for me,” he said. “By the time I got out of prison, she was married. End of story.”

“Well, she didn’t waste any time. I was in the hospital for two weeks after that beating I took. When I got out, she was gone. But I saw her one more time about a year later, at a restaurant in Cottonwood Springs. She was with this square-built, dark-haired guy, and they had a baby. I figured he must be her husband, so I didn’t try to talk to her.”

Judd’s jaw tightened. He swallowed hard. “Watch the roadside for your bike,” he said, closing the subject. “Tell me if you recognize the place where you left it.”

A few minutes later they found the bike under some trees. Judd used the spotlight mounted on the truck to give Digger some light while he filled the tank.

The bike, what Judd could see of it, looked more like a high-end Yamaha than a Harley, not the sort of machine he’d expect a hard-core traditionalist like Digger to be riding. But he’d have to process that later. For now, all that mattered was getting home and out of the cold.

He waited until the bike had started. Then he drove home with the headlights on and Digger riding the bike behind him.

“You can put your bike in the shed, next to the truck,” he told his visitor. “The bunkhouse should be warm by now. You’ll need to turn the water heater on. I’ll be up early in my shop. The less I’m disturbed, the happier I’ll be. As I said, you’re on your own, free to come and go as you like.”

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