Page 59 of The Sound of Sleighbells

Nodding, she slipped the gun into her purse. “Let’s hope I won’t have any reason to touch it. Thank you for tonight, Judd. You made my children happy.”

“I hope I made you happy, too,” he said. “But maybe that’s too much to ask. Good night, Ruth.”

She swallowed the ache in her throat as she watched him walk out to his truck and drive away.

The next morning, Ruth and her family woke up to snow, tumbling out of the sky in feathery, white flakes. It was the kind of rare storm that would blanket the dry Texas landscape in soft white. But would it last until Christmas? At least it might stay on the ground for the parade.

At school, Ruth hovered by the front door, watching the students come inside. Her eyes searched the crowd for one young boy. Yes, there he was—Robert in his new coat, grinning from ear to ear. “Hi, Mrs. McCoy,” he greeted her. “Look at my coat. I knew that we’d get a miracle, and we did!” He took a few steps, then paused, turning his head. “Oh—and my mom got her job back. The boss found the lost money in his desk.”

She watched him hurry down the hall to his classroom. Such simple wishes, and so much joy.

She could use a miracle of her own. But she didn’t know what to ask for. Maybe what she needed was already inside her, just waiting to be found.

* * *

On Thursday the harness was finished to the last buckle and bell. After high-fives and Mexican Cokes all around, Skip, Trevor, and Maggie spent the rest of the afternoon oiling and rubbing the leather, including the collars and bridles, until they gleamed like new.

Judd couldn’t have been prouder as the team helped him load the harness into the bed of his pickup. With the kids in the back seat, he drove over to Abner’s, where it was laid out in the sleigh to wait for Saturday morning, the day of the parade.

Abner was napping, but they stayed in the chilly barn and spent another half hour polishing the brass on the sleigh and brushing the red velvet upholstery. Then he drove them back to Trevor’s house, where they’d be picked up later and taken home.

From there, Judd turned the pickup around in the yard and headed back to his ranch. He had his own work to do.

By now the winter sunset had faded to hues of ash, charcoal, and glowing coals. The truck’s headlights gleamed on the snowdrifts that were piled on both sides of the lane. The roadbed shone with packed snow.

The winter storm, rare for this part of Texas, had buried the land in white. The cold spell that followed had slowed the melting. With the parade two days away, snowy ground for the sleigh runners looked like a sure thing.

He should have been in high spirits. But walking into the shop, seeing the empty floor where the harness had been assembled, Judd felt a strange emptiness. Damned if he hadn’t enjoyed those youngsters. Maybe he wouldn’t have made such a bad father after all.

Maggie had forgotten to take her boom box. Setting it on the workbench, Judd switched it on and turned up the volume. The songs of Christmas filled the silent space as he rolled up his sleeves and went to work.

* * *

On Friday, the last day before the break, the students were to be dismissed at noon, following the musical program for the parents. The school was abuzz with Christmas excitement. Most of the teachers abandoned any hope of students learning and showed movies in class or rehearsed the musical numbers for the program.

By eleven, when the parents arrived, the children were as restless as fluttering birds. Lined up by the teachers in the hall, they marched into the lunchroom wearing paper hats they’d made in class—Santa hats, reindeer antlers, angel halos, and elf caps. The songs were performed with enthusiasm and greeted with loud applause.

The outdoor concert by the high school and middle school choirs would be held in the park that evening. Ruth was looking forward to it, even though she didn’t expect Judd to be there. He’d been patient, but she couldn’t blame him for walking away.

There’d been no sign of Digger during the week. Ruth had begun to hope he’d left town for good. She’d hidden the gun on the top shelf of her bedroom closet and resolved to forget it was there. Judd had meant well, giving her the weapon. But she’d disliked guns even before Tom was killed. Now, just the sight of one stirred painful memories.

By suppertime, another storm had drifted in. This one was gentler than the last, the wind barely a whisper, the snow falling slowly, in big, airy flakes. Word was out that the concert would be held as scheduled.

Skip left right after the evening meal to walk the few blocks to the park. Ruth waited longer before dressing her girls in warm pants and sweaters under their hooded coats, then adding boots and mittens. The concert wouldn’t be long, but the night would be cold, and people would be standing to listen.

By the time they arrived at the park, a crowd had gathered in front of the Christmas tree where the concert would be held. Ruth found a place near the edge and gathered her girls close to keep them warm. Her gaze swept the audience. She spotted Cooper and Jess, and several other people she recognized. But there was no sign of Judd’s tall frame and battered Stetson.

But of course, he wouldn’t have come. He had work to finish before Christmas. And after their last awkward parting—and her earlier demand that he end his relationship with Skip—why should he make the effort?

She had only wanted to protect her son and to protect herself. Now, if she could, she would take back all the ugly things she’d said to him. But it was too late. Her words would be branded in his memory for all time.

The students were filing onto the risers that had been set up in front of the tree, the girls on one side, the boys on the other. A murmur went through the crowd as people pointed out their sons and daughters. “Can you see Skip, Mommy?” Tammy asked.

“Yes. There he is. Back row, on the end.”

“I can see him,” Janeen said. “It’s easy-peasy.”

“I want to see him!” Tammy was stretching on tiptoe and trying to jump. “Pick me up, Mommy!”

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