by Janet Dailey
“Elsie and Jack Pearson. Do you know them?”
The last name clearly registered. Tyrell nodded. “I remember Jack from back in the day. He’s older than I am. But I don’t know his wife too well. Haven’t talked to him for years.”
Annie hesitated, then offered an account of her visit to the Pearson home with Nell, starting with the reason why: the unopened letter from the tax assessor. Her father listened carefully.
“Mom told me to stay out of it and let Nell take charge,” Annie finished. “She’s known Mrs. Pearson for a long time, even though they hadn’t talked for quite a while.”
“I’d say your mother got it right,” her father advised. “I’m sure that old lady has her own way of doing things. If I know Nell, she’ll keep you posted.”
“That’s true.” Annie gave a reluctant smile.
“You ready to head back?”
“Yeah. It’s getting cold.” She pulled the knit cap out of her pocket and put it on.
“Thanks for coming along. That long walk did me good. You too, girl. You got roses in your cheeks. Haven’t seen you this bright eyed in a long time.”
Annie looked up at her dad. “I just realized my leg didn’t hurt the whole time.”
“That’s a good sign. Especially after a big dance. Oops.” He stopped suddenly. “Sorry, little fella.”
Some small creature that hadn’t crept into its winter burrow scurried away through the undergrowth. “Was that a chipmunk?”
“Didn’t see. Coulda been; he was quick. I almost stepped on him.” Tyrell grinned at her. “Don’t tell your mother.”
“Why would I?”
“Well, you might. But listen. When we first met, I thought she was so pretty I asked her to dance even though I barely knew how. I stepped on her feet so many times she wouldn’t give me her phone number.”
“Really?”
“I’m surprised she never mentioned it. That’s my Lou. Loyal as they come.” Tyrell looked ahead, seeing the red truck at last. “So did you meet anyone at the dance?”
“Everyone in Velde was there. Plus a lot of new faces.”
“And?”
“I had a good time, Dad.”
“But not with anyone in particular.”
“Nope,” she said cheerfully.
“Just thought I’d ask,” he said vaguely. “If you are seeing someone, you can tell me and Mom. You don’t have to, of course.”
“Thanks. Good to know.”
Tyrell gave her a sheepish smile. “Well, at least you’re getting back in the swing of things.”
“I’m trying to.”
“After all these months at home, your mom and I—well, we hope you still like being here.”
“More than ever, Dad.”
“We wouldn’t mind a bit if you stayed for as long as you like. But maybe you want to get back to Aspen, start working again.”
“I honestly don’t know what I want to do. And I’m not making any decisions until after Christmas.”
Tyrell slung a lean arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “That’ll do. No more questions.”
Annie shook her head. “Good. ’Cause I don’t have answers. To anything.”
Chapter 17
Elsie Pearson pushed aside a stack of opened bills. There simply wasn’t the money to pay more than half of them. People had been kind, but the Pearsons had never taken a handout or asked for charity. They made do or went without. She set down her pen and folded her hands in her lap. Then she picked up the phone and set it in front of her, ready to call Connally. Something made her hesitate.
She wasn’t a fool. He didn’t seem entirely honest. She was sure he’d deliberately let her catch a glimpse of the bundles of cash in his briefcase when he’d come over to talk to her.
As if she would pay her taxes with cash if she took his offer. The town clerk would think she, Elsie Pearson, had robbed a bank. No, Connally would have to make a legitimate deal of some sort if she decided that there was no other way to keep their house.
Jack needed care above and beyond what their income would cover. She could swallow her pride for him.
But she had promised Nell that she would talk to her about things like this.
Elsie looked up the number in the address book by the phone and dialed.
“Elsie! Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry. I was going to call you, haven’t had a free minute. The carpenter just got here. The back staircase at the saloon collapsed. . . .”
Mrs. Pearson listened politely to Nell’s chatter without interrupting.
“And then there was the Snow Ball, which was a roaring success, and this weekend there’s the parade. Do you think you can come?”
“Not if you’re going.”
The slight frostiness in her tone seemed to be lost on Nell at first. But the saloon keeper caught herself. “Maybe someone else could stay with Jack,” she said worriedly.
The old lady cast a glance at her husband, who was looking absently out the window. “Never mind, dear. It’s supposed to be awfully cold. The newspaper will have photos of it.”
Awkwardly, Nell tried to make amends for not remembering that Jack couldn’t be left alone, but the carpenter eventually commanded her attention. “I’m coming over later.”
The two women agreed on a time and Mrs. Pearson hung up. She set Connally’s business card to the right of the phone and got up to start dinner. Calling him didn’t mean anything. It would be a simple request for more information, that was all.
Connally showed up after Elsie called him, full of ideas. Mrs. Pearson was courteous, but that was all. She couldn’t go through with what he was suggesting and dodged his questions until he took the hint and left. She and Jack might never be able to pay him back. There had to be another way.
Jack came into the kitchen as she was washing the few dishes they’d used. She looked up, startled by how quietly he could still move for such a big man.
“I don’t like him, Elsie.” He said nothing more.
“I thought you were watching television.”
“I was listening.”
She slipped off her rubber gloves and hung them up. “Connally’s a big talker, that’s all. Nothing’s going to change. We’re staying right here. In our own house.”
“All right.” He stood there for a moment and then smiled.
His wife reached up and patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, Jack. We’ll manage somehow.”
By the time Annie got into Velde again, the parade was imminent. She drove through the center of town just as the deputies were setting up blockades at the side street.
The main thoroughfare was oddly empty.
She rolled down her window to ask a deputy with a Santa-style vest over his khaki uniform, “Where is everybody?”
“Out by Nell’s rental cabin. She told the organizers they could park the floats there.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She swung the red truck in that general direction, wondering what Stone thought of that idea. In another minute, she slowed down and brought up the rear of a vaguely biblical exodus. Adults were swarmed with excited kids in costumes.
Annie spotted a few of her seven shepherds, wearing burlap robes with hoods over their colorful winter jackets and swinging their crooks importantly. She turned off, laughing, and went around the back way to get out of the path of the stream of participants.
She heard Rowdy barking before she saw him. There were several real sheep standing in the trampled snow in front of the cabin. Rowdy was doing his best to keep them together.
He circled the small herd, nipped at a black ankle or two, then sat down, staring balefully at the big ewe in front, who met his gaze with a wary one of her own.
“Live sheep? Whose idea was that?” Annie called to Stone, who came out the front door, bundled up for the cold day in a scarf and his cowboy hat.
“Nell’s.”
“Figures.” She made a point of acting as if nothing had happened between them. As if she’d
never spoken to Kerry at the dance.
Rowdy sprang into action to get a would-be stray back into position.
“Now we know what Rowdy used to do for a living,” Stone observed.
“For sure.” Annie parked and got out. The first of the floats was rolling forward. She saw the rest of the boys she’d supervised at the church hall. The crew-cut one came running up to her.
“Annie! Hi! Guess what. Miss Opal said we could ride on the float. We’ll be the shepherds who watch by night during the day, I guess.”
A ramp was being lowered from the back of the float, which was a flatbed with fencing all around a pastoral scene made of cardboard.
Nell popped out of the passenger side of the cab and got the kids in line.
“What do you think?” she asked the driver. “Sheep in first or kids?”
“Sheep,” he said.
Stone whistled to Rowdy. “Move ’em out,” he added. The dog herded like a pro. As for the sheep, they were used to being bossed around by self-important canines. Rowdy got them up the ramp without a hitch.
The excited kids were shoving each other until Nell told them sternly to behave.
“I don’t think they had a stock dog at Bethlehem,” she told the driver, who shrugged. “Children, are you ready?”
The boys and girls lined up. Chaos ensued, with several stragglers adding to the confusion. Rowdy raced down the ramp and got to work.
The children screamed with laughter as he bumped and nosed at them. No nipping. But he meant business.
“Nell, he’s herding us!” one yelled.
“And doing a darn good job of it, I’d say. Now get on up there. You know your places.”
Between Nell and Rowdy, the shepherds and assorted other young Bethlehemites were loaded and good to go. The second float rolled up. Nell turned and saw Annie.
“This is going to be so much fun.”
“Want me to drive you back to town?” Annie asked.
“No, but thanks. I’m going to stop by Mrs. Pearson’s house first. I have been remiss,” Nell said, looking a little ashamed of herself. “I said I’d stop by and what with everything, I didn’t.”
“You did reach social services, though.”
“Yes. But you know how it is with a bureaucracy. You have to follow up. Oh, here come the singing elves. Aren’t they adorable?”
The kids on the second float were decked out in peaked caps of red and green felt, and motley-colored costumes, also of felt.
Annie spotted Jenny and Zoe, sitting together on a giant wrapped present, holding hands. They weren’t smiling.
“Oh dear. Those two little sweethearts are having a tough time,” Nell whispered. “Cilla told me that everyone’s doing the best they can to cheer them up, but they really, really miss their mom.”
“Wish we could get her back home sooner.”
Nell sighed with concern, looking after the second float as it rolled slowly past. “Maybe I’ll think of something.”
“You always do.”
Chapter 18
Annie was exhausted. She’d watched the parade, pitched in at the hot-cocoa stand to pass out cups, helped kids find their parents and grandparents, and taken innumerable photos for everyone who asked her to.
Afterward, she caught up with Cilla and Ed Rivers, swinging the girls in the little park by the town square. Jenny and Zoe seemed to have cheered up.
Ed gave a big push and sent the older girl up in the air, squealing with glee.
“Hi, everyone. Did you enjoy the parade?”
“It was fun,” the children chorused.
“You two looked very cute.”
“We took about a million pictures of them,” Cilla said, a little breathless from exertion.
“That’s great.” Annie remembered just in time not to say anything like I bet their mom will love those. “You know, I was just wondering what happens to the stuff on the floats. Do they store all that for next year?”
“Some of it,” Cilla said. “But the giant presents on the elf float are supposed to go under the town Christmas tree. It’s not up yet.”
Annie looked toward the tree’s usual spot in the small square. There were a couple of ladders and rigging equipment and what seemed to be boxes of outdoor lights, but no tree.
“I seem to remember your dad volunteering to cut one from your ranch,” Ed said.
“He didn’t tell me about it. But we do have a grove of blue spruces.”
“Really?” Jenny was slowing down. “My teacher says that’s Colorado’s state tree.”
“That’s right.”
“It would be neat if it was a Bennett tree.” When her swing stopped completely, Jenny slid out of it and headed for a bench. “Do you have a picture of it on your phone?”
“Ah—no. I’m not sure my dad picked one to cut yet,” Annie told her, sitting down herself, happy to rest. “He likes to take his time with things like that.”
Zoe didn’t seem as interested in the tree, delighted to have the attention of both Cilla and Ed all to herself for a little while.
“Oh. Well, I hope we can put some decorations on it,” Jenny said. “We made paper-plate snowmen last week.”
“I always loved doing crafts at school.” Annie smiled. She’d never minded getting her fingers gluey, not if glitter was involved.
“I hope it’s a big tree.” Jenny’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh, it will be. Did you know that one of our trees made it all the way to New York City?”
“Really?”
“That was a few years ago. My big brother Sam drove it across the country with my dad. But I’m sure we have a perfect one for here. It just wanted to finish growing first.”
Jenny slipped her mittened hand into Annie’s and rose from the bench. “Would you swing me some more?”
“Just for a little while,” Ed cautioned. “It’s late in the day and I’m sure Annie wants to get home.”
“Hop on,” Annie told her. She and Cilla swung the girls at exactly the same time. The children leaned back and laughed at the sky, kicking their booted feet.
Annie stopped by Nell’s saloon to see how the staircase repairs were coming along. The carpenter had left a stack of lumber, including new spindles to replace the cracked ones, on a workbench, but not his tools.
There were no customers, but that was because Nell hadn’t turned the CLOSED sign to the OPEN side. She must have just gotten back from the parade.
Nell came out from the back when she heard the clinking of the jingle-bell wreath on the door.
“Looks like he’s making progress,” Annie said.
“He had to stop.” Frowning, the saloon keeper put her hands on her hips and surveyed the area, which was still roped off. “He said something about a high-maintenance girlfriend and not canceling the vacation he promised her. So I guess the poker suite won’t be available until next year.”
“You have plenty to do as it is,” Annie replied. “Did you see Mrs. Pearson, by the way?”
Nell nodded, looking a little troubled. “I’m trying to be tactful, but I’m just itching to ask her if Shep Connally’s been around. I saw his business card by her phone.”
“My parents keep telling me to let you handle it.”
“Well, that’s probably best. And Elsie did promise to talk to me before she agreed to any sort of arrangement in the future.”
“How about getting her some help?”
Nell beamed. “Now that’s under way. I filled out the paperwork for a health-care aide for Jack. They should hear very soon.”
The jingle-bell wreath rattled and clinked again.
“Mrs. Dighton?” A deputy stepped inside the bar.
“Deputy Keene! What can I do for you?”
The young officer came inside, his hat in his hand. “Just came in to let you know that the roads out of town might not be drivable by late tonight. In case you have any customers who wait too long to get home.”
“None so far.” She gestured to t
he empty booths and tables. “I did hear that there was a storm system blowing in. But I thought that was happening tomorrow.”
“Tonight and tomorrow,” Keene clarified.
“Oh my. I’ll close by nine.”
“All right then. Thank you, ladies.” The deputy included Annie in his good-bye nod. “I’ll be on my way.”
Keene went out again. Nell headed for the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container. “Want me to microwave some lasagna for you? I made it yesterday so I wouldn’t have to cook after the parade.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
The portions weren’t that big, but the lasagna was so hearty that Annie felt a little sleepy after they’d finished. “That was delicious, Nell.”
“How about dessert?”
“Nope. I probably should be getting home.”
“I understand.”
She helped Nell clean up behind the bar, not that there was much to do, and said good-bye.
Outside, the town looked completely different. The snow had already begun, softening the angles of the old brick commercial buildings on Main Street and beginning to turn the parked cars into enormous marshmallows. Annie’s truck was more white than red.
She cleared snow from the windshield before she got in, and batted it off the door handles and locks. Sliding into the cab, she turned on the wipers to get rid of the rest.
Deputy Keene was driving slowly down the street with another officer in a cruiser. The tires sprayed snow as he made a U-turn and rolled down the window to talk to a bunch of teenagers horsing around near the town square.
“You kids need to get on home. This is going to get worse.”
“Five minutes more?” a girl pleaded.
“That’s all. I’ll drive you home myself if I have to.”
They went back to playing and throwing sloppy snowballs while Annie turned the key in the ignition. Her tires spun.
“Not good,” she muttered. The snow was coming down harder now, in big wet flakes that the wipers couldn’t brush away in one go.
The defroster wasn’t working too well either. She rolled down the window on the opposite side to get rid of the blurring mist on the inside. The snow blew in and got all over the seat.