Page 57 of The Sound of Sleighbells

Ruth had offered Robert a ride, but the boy had insisted that his house wasn’t far, and he could walk. Ruth had let him go, but she’d thought about him while driving home with her girls. After her own hard times, she understood the desperate love of a mother who would steal to put food on the table. This little family needed help.

Maybe she couldn’t give them a future. But a Christmas miracle would dry a little boy’s tears. At least, she could give them that.

After supper, she called her friend Jess, who worked as the youth counselor for the school district. If anybody knew about the family, it would be Jess.

“Yes, I know the boy you mean,” Jess responded to Ruth’s story. “Robert LaBute. He breaks my heart, but I can only do so much. I’ve tried to make appointments with the mother, but she won’t come in for a conference. I’m guessing she’s either ashamed or scared that somebody will try to take her kids. But I’m not Social Services. Unless she asks for help, my hands are tied.”

“Well, mine aren’t,” Ruth said. “I’d like to do something for them. What can you tell me about the family?”

“I’ll tell you everything I know. The mother is Marie LaBute. Her husband left her two years ago. She has Robert and three-year-old twin boys. They live in that run-down trailer park on the east side. Space number seventeen. I remember driving by it.”

“Yes, I know the place.” Ruth sighed. No wonder Robert hadn’t wanted her to drive him home—even though the day had been cold and the distance long for a young boy.

“The family gets welfare, but it’s barely enough to live on. The mother’s tried to get more by working, even though Robert has to tend the twins while she’s gone.”

Ruth thought of the times she’d been forced to leave Skip alone or watching the girls while she worked. She understood the worry and the guilt. And now, according to Robert, his mother had just lost her job. Maybe she really had stolen the missing money. If so, Ruth could hardly blame her.

“That’s all I can tell you,” Jess said. “Knowing you, Ruth, I can imagine how you’d sympathize with this family. But you can only do so much. Guard your heart. Don’t get too involved, or you might end up sorry.”

“Thanks, Jess. I’ll remember your wise advice.”

And it was wise, Ruth told herself as the call ended. The best way to help Marie LaBute and her boys would be to do it anonymously. That way Marie couldn’t refuse what was offered, and she couldn’t feel obligated to the giver.

Skip and the girls would enjoy helping the family. And she could afford to be generous. Tomorrow after school, she’d be meeting with the Realtor to finalize the sale of her property to Judd. Most of the money would be set aside for a house, but she could spare enough to give a poor family a happy Christmas.

* * *

The next day, Ruth dropped her daughters off at Abner’s while she went to sign the paperwork at the Realtor’s office. Since she was the seller, the process didn’t take long. Judd had already been there to sign his documents and the check. All that remained for her was to sign the quit claim deed and take the check to the bank.

The plan was to deposit the check in the special account she’d opened, take enough cash for Christmas, pick up the girls, and go shopping for the LaBute family. They would buy coats, hats, socks, and gloves for the boys. Then Ruth would drive the girls back to Abner’s to pick up Skip. Sometime after supper, when it was dark enough, they would deliver their early Christmas surprise.

Depositing Judd’s generous check left her almost light-headed. She had never seen, let alone possessed, so much money in her life. But she no longer owned the land that had been in her family for three generations. The money would be gone in time. The land, now Judd’s, would remain.

Twenty minutes later, she was picking up the girls. She had told them about the Christmas plan for Robert’s family. They knew the boy, and they were excited about playing secret Santa.

Shop Mart had everything they needed. The girls helped choose the styles and colors. Despite the long lines, they were finished in an hour and headed back to Abner’s.

As Ruth drove in the gate, she saw Judd’s black truck parked in front of the house. She pulled up next to it, let the girls out, and went inside.

The house was cozily warm. Skip was on the couch watching a sportscast on TV. The dog lolled in front of the fireplace. Judd and Abner sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking. But something wasn’t right. Ruth recognized the worried expression on Judd’s face.

“I take it you cashed the check,” he said.

“It’s in the bank. But I know that look, Judd. What’s going on?”

“You can still read me,” Judd said, repeating her words. “Sit down. I’ll pour you some coffee.”

Taking a seat on the edge of a chair, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I won’t be staying long. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Judd glanced around to make sure the children weren’t hanging on his words. “Abner had a visitor in the night. I think it might’ve been our friend. Tell her what happened, Abner.”

“Somebody was sneakin’ around the barn,” Abner said. “The dog spooked him, and he hightailed it for the gate. I yelled and fired a blast over his head, but he didn’t stop. The next thing I heard was a motorbike starting up and taking off down the road. I know bikes. It wasn’t a Harley.”

“What would he want in your old barn?” Ruth asked. “There’s nothing in there but the Santa sleigh, some old, rusty tools, and a stack of hay.”

“I wondered the same thing,” Abner said. “Whatever it was, he didn’t get it.”

“You know that he paid me a visit the other night,” Judd said. “Since I found the kerosene bottle he dropped, I’m guessing he meant to set the shop on fire. That alarm system was worth every cent I paid for it. But we’re worried about you, Ruth. What if you’re next?”

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