Page 31 of The Sound of Sleighbells

The girls laughed and sang along with the radio all the way back to town. Ruth loved seeing them so happy. She would do everything she could to make the day—and this holiday season—special for them.

As she pulled up in front of the garage, Silas came outside to greet her. Balancing the plate of chocolate-chip cookies she’d made, she climbed out of the station wagon. “Here you are.” She thrust the cookies toward him. “Payment for patching my rear window.”

“Yum.” He tasted one. “Paid in full, I’d say. I’ll share them with my helpers. Oh—and I’ve got some good news for you. I’ve tracked down a replacement for your window. The vehicle’s in Cottonwood Springs with a smashed front end. It shouldn’t take too long to remove the glass and ship it down here. I’m still negotiating the price, but it shouldn’t cost you too much.”

“Ballpark?”

He gave her a number that was less than she’d expected. “I’ll call you when it’s in. Figure on about a half day to install it.”

“Thanks, Silas. We’re off to do some Christmas celebrating.” She climbed back into the station wagon. The girls waved as she drove away. Silas waved back.

Main Street was crowded with early Christmas shoppers and people who’d just come to see the lights and hear the music. Ruth found herself glancing around for any sign of Digger. She didn’t see him, but she’d resolved ahead of time that she wouldn’t allow him, or anyone else, to spoil the day for her children.

They walked around the park, admiring the lights on the smaller trees and exclaiming in awe over the glittering spectacle of the tall spruce crowned by a golden star. A stand on the corner was selling giant pretzels. Ruth bought one and divided it for the girls.

The shops along Main Street were open, their windows decorated with tempting gifts—dolls and toy trains, miniature kitchens, baseball gloves and bats, bikes and tricycles, glamorous party gowns, fancy shoes, and jewelry. One window displayed chocolates in elegant gold boxes. Another window had a winter scene with stuffed toy animals riding in a sleigh.

The girls filled their eyes with Christmas wonders until Ruth’s feet began to complain and Tammy began to drag. “We’ve seen enough,” Janeen said. “I want to go home and decorate our tree.”

“The tree will have to wait until your brother comes home,” Ruth said. “But if you promise to be very careful, we can open the boxes that Abner gave us and see what’s inside. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

Chattering and dancing, the girls tugged their mother back toward the car.

* * *

Trevor was still recovering at home. But Skip didn’t seem to mind working alone. It was as if he’d found a hidden rhythm in the cycle of measuring, cutting, smoothing, fitting, and sewing that carried him from one piece of the harness to the next. Pausing in his own work to watch him, Judd was surprised at how much progress the boy had made in just a few days’ time.

Midway through the morning, Judd heard the Yamaha start up and leave. Another worry. He didn’t trust the little man, and Ruth seemed to trust him even less. Judd remembered his conversation with the sheriff. At least Buck would be checking Digger’s record. But Judd wouldn’t rest easy until he had more answers about his old friend. Was Digger the harmless derelict he appeared to be, or had he shown up with some darker scheme in mind?

Around noon, the pizza delivery Judd had ordered from Buckaroo’s showed up at the door of the workshop. Judd paid, adding a generous tip, and pulled up a chair to split the pizza with Skip. “Help yourself,” he said.

“Thanks.” Skip chose a middle-sized piece, took a bite, and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. “Wow. This is better than the energy bar I stuffed in my pocket for lunch. Mom will have a good supper for me when I get home, but that’s a long time off.”

“I get the impression your mother has her hands full.”

“She does—and it’s all for her family.” Skip helped himself to another slice of pizza. “For as long as I can remember, she’s worked herself ragged—at least since my father was killed. She was waitressing till she met Ed. After that, when she couldn’t hold down a steady job because the girls were babies, she cleaned people’s houses. Things are better now that Ed’s gone. He used to get drunk and beat her. The sheriff would lock him up—she’d go and bring him home again because, as she said, her kids needed a father. It was awful for me, not being big enough to protect her from him.”

Judd’s jaw clenched at the thought of what Ruth had endured at the hands of her monster ex-husband. This was on him. If he hadn’t gone off with his friends when she wanted him to stay, she might have become his wife—and he would have treated her like a queen. This winning boy might have been his.

“She’s got a good job at the elementary school now,” Skip continued. “We even get health insurance. But money’s still tight. I try to help out, but a paper route doesn’t pay much.”

The thought surfaced in Judd’s mind that he could hire Skip as a part-time assistant for a fair wage. He could use the help, and the boy had shown a real aptitude for the work. But Ruth would have none of it. She’d made it clear that once the harness was finished, he was to cut off all contact with her family.

“The farm where our old house stood before Ed blew it up is hers,” Skip said. “If she could sell the land, we’d have enough money for the down payment on a house. But so far, nobody wants to buy the place. And with winter coming, Mom figures nothing’s going to happen till next spring, at least.”

“Interesting.” Judd filed that bit of information away and changed the subject. “Go ahead and take that last slice of pizza, Skip. Have you talked to Trevor? How’s he doing?”

“Better. Just a bad cold. But his mom wants to keep him home until school starts on Monday. After that, I can come here with him on the bus. We can work for a few hours every afternoon.”

“That’s fine. What about tomorrow? It’s Sunday.”

“Mom likes us all to go to church and have a nice dinner at home that day—maybe invite Abner or take him some food afterward.”

“Then that’s what you should do. I’ll be working tomorrow, but I won’t expect you to show up.”

Skip had finished the pizza. “One more thing. Could I ask a favor, Judd?”

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