White Christmas in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  Rusty felt he was good and well corralled.

  That was when he heard a noise behind him. With all of the commotion going on around him, he didn’t know why that noise stood out, but it did. Someone had been back by the coat hooks. Rusty looked around. No one was where the sound had come from, but the coats had been moved. And he no longer saw the parka with the orange lining hanging anywhere.

  Before he could puzzle out what happened, Sheriff Wall was standing next to him.

  “Problems?” the lawman asked.

  Rusty looked away from the coats and focused on the sheriff. “Not that I know of.”

  “Humph,” the sheriff snorted slightly. “Well, I came to talk to you anyway, about going to see Renee’s ex-husband.”

  Rusty noted that Renee had stepped far enough away that she couldn’t hear their conversation. She was talking to an older couple. The man carried a briefcase and Rusty figured he was the lawyer she had wanted to ask about paperwork for her custody issues. He saw the man nod, so it looked as though everything was lining up nicely.

  “We’re planning to go on Monday,” Rusty told the sheriff, keeping his voice low. “I was going to tell you. I didn’t know until a second ago that the day would work.”

  “I’ve given it some thought,” the lawman continued with a nod, not seeming to care who might overhear his words. “I think her ex-husband might know something about the rustling that is going on. It’s all happening in the northeast corner of the state. That’s where he committed his crimes.”

  “I thought he was in for robbery,” Rusty responded, not sure what point the sheriff was trying to make.

  “Rustling is robbery,” the sheriff insisted. “And he hasn’t been in prison for so long that he’s lost his connections. Thieves tend to hang together, or at least know where they are so they don’t step on each other’s toes.”

  “Okay, maybe,” Rusty agreed. He could see the lawman’s logic.

  “So I figure if you strike up a conversation with him,” Sheriff Wall continued, “he might tell you what he knows.”

  “Me?” Rusty asked. “He’s going to tell me?”

  “Well, it’s not like he knows you,” the sheriff said. “But he had accomplices he worked with. He likes to brag. Maybe we can make him think it will do him good to share his moves with a fellow thief.”

  “I’m not—”

  The sheriff held up his hand. “We’ll make up a backstory and feed it into the prison gossip vine. I know the warden there.”

  “I don’t know if that will work,” Rusty said, wondering when he could step away from this conversation. He knew how gossip grew. An overheard word there. A misunderstood word later.

  “You have to try,” the sheriff said with a glance over at Renee. “If we don’t find out who’s stealing those cattle, people will always wonder if it was you. Even if the rustling stops tomorrow.”

  Rusty followed the lawman’s gaze over to Renee. The man was right. He might not have much of a future here, but he would like Renee to think well of him. Of course, that would never happen if she heard the gossip the sheriff was planning to start.

  “Not this way,” Rusty said as he turned back to the sheriff. “If the man just up and tells me, that’s one thing. But I don’t want rumors started.”

  Sheriff Wall shook his head. “All I’m asking is to set you up with a microphone before you go. You’ll need permission to visit Renee’s ex-husband anyway. The warden will help with that. All you have to do is give me the go-ahead and I’ll get a microphone small enough to wear on your tie.”

  “Even if I do agree to the microphone, I’m not going to prison wearing a suit,” Rusty said.

  The sheriff chuckled. “Then I should be able to find a place in your sling.”

  They stood together a moment in silence.

  “He’s not likely to talk, though, unless he thinks you’re a criminal,” the sheriff finally said. “Think about what I’ve said. It won’t take long to set up a rumor in the prison.”

  “I don’t think I’ll change my mind,” Rusty said. “I know how far gossip reaches. My reputation is about all I’ve got.”

  Just then someone started playing the organ at the front of the church and everyone got quiet and started to walk toward the pews.

  Rusty almost turned and walked out of the church. He felt as if he’d been through turmoil already this morning. He’d been tempted, ridiculed and forced to give up his pride to help an older woman, and he’d been asked to give up his good name.

  But then he saw Renee turn in a pew and search for him. He kept his eyes on her and walked down the aisle to where she was sitting.

  “Mind if I—?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” she said with a cool smile as she moved down to give him more room. “I don’t own the church.”

  And with that, she offered her hymnal to him so he could share.

  She had a beautiful voice, he thought as he listened to her sing “Amazing Grace.” Everyone was singing, but her voice came through with a purity that could only come from conviction. He wondered if he would ever have that kind of grace in his life. He knew the message of the song. The chaplain had seen to that. But forgiveness like that didn’t seem possible in this life, not even from God. He had let too many people down to wipe those actions under some kind of heavenly rug and pretend they had never happened.

  Chapter Seven

  Renee had tears in her eyes by the time Pastor Curtis had finished the sermon. His words on the prodigal son touched her once again as she contemplated how far a person could fall in this life and still be forgiven by God.

  She had been at the bottom of her existence the night she came back to Dry Creek almost a year ago, with poor little Tessie sleeping in the backseat of her run-down car. Her husband was robbing another gas station and she had driven away. The back window didn’t even close and she remembered how the shrill whistle of the wind through the crack sounded so loud that she worried her husband would find them.

  She’d been frantically looking for the Elkton ranch because the last she’d heard, her father had been the foreman of the place. She’d followed road after road, always turning when she saw another pair of headlights. Afraid of her husband and the man he’d found to work with him, she drove fast and erratically. It was not surprising to her that she never found the massive welcome gate over the dirt lane that led to the Elkton ranch that night.

  She had ended up on Gracie Stone’s porch instead, confused and almost unconscious from the blood she had lost. One of the first people she’d seen, after Gracie and her father, had been Sheriff Wall. She remembered the sharp bark of his questions that night and how safe they made her feel.

  The man had been doing his job and she’d trusted him. It was only when she felt better that she resented being arrested.

  The pastor asked everyone to stand for the benediction. As Renee stood, she glanced across the aisle and saw the sheriff there with his wife and children. His stocky frame seemed a little shrunken today in his black denim jeans and plaid cotton shirt. His plain, square face was serious. The hair on his balding head appeared a little sparser than usual. For some reason, he looked as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. And in a way, the troubles in this part of the world likely were.

  Renee bowed her head as the organ played softly and the pastor blessed everyone, asking God to watch over each of them during the coming week. The affection in the pastor’s voice when he prayed for his people always brought tears to Renee’s eyes. This little town might not be much on the map, but no one could stay here long and claim he or she was not loved by this church.

  When Renee lifted her head, she looked around. The day was still overcast, but some light came through the side row of windows made of vintage bubbled glass. She made her way past a few of the people
walking down the aisle until she stood next to the sheriff.

  “I want to apologize for my words the other night,” she said to him quietly. “About the arrest and all. You had no choice but to take me into custody. I don’t want you to think I have hard feelings.”

  Renee smiled past the sheriff to the man’s wife, Barbara. The dark-haired woman had brought her daughter and son to Dry Creek some years ago while her husband had also been serving a prison term. Since she’d married the sheriff, her children had grown in confidence and character. Neither of them had developed a problem with denial, the way Tessie had, either. Renee decided to sit down and have a long conversation with Barbara someday soon.

  She looked back at the sheriff and he was searching her eyes for something.

  “I don’t want to bring you bad news like that ever again,” he said as he glanced over her shoulder. “But my job is to keep you and your daughter safe. I will do what I have to.”

  “Even break our hearts?” she asked softly.

  He nodded grimly.

  “I appreciate it,” Renee said with a slight smile. “You were looking out for me back then, too.”

  With that, she saw the sheriff shift his attention. He was no longer talking to her; he had on his official face and was focused on someone behind her.

  “I forgot to give you something,” the lawman said to that person as he reached into this pocket. He pulled out a Ziploc bag with a scrap of paper inside and held it out. “I never called the number.”

  Renee turned slightly so she could see Rusty reach out and take the bag.

  “I don’t care if you do call the number,” he said. “But I appreciate having it back. That’s the number for my chaplain.”

  The sheriff looked as stunned as Renee had been when Rusty first told her he had a minister in his life.

  “You talk to this chaplain?” the sheriff asked casually. “I know sometimes people have a number for someone—say, a dentist—but that doesn’t mean they have ever used the person’s services. You know what I mean?”

  Now, that, Renee told herself, was why she needed people like the sheriff around her. She’d never even considered that.

  Rusty chuckled without much humor. “Oh, I talk to the man, all right. According to him, he digs around inside my soul and finds things—bringing them up to the light, or so he says.” Rusty paused a moment and continued, fondness in his voice, “It’s no wonder I lost his number.”

  “You didn’t lose it,” Renee said in a rush. “I took it out of your pocket.”

  “And gave it to the sheriff?” Rusty turned to her in amazement.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to keep it,” she said to defend herself. “And you were a suspect. A lot of cattle have been stolen lately.”

  Rusty shook his head. “I guess I should have known after the shirt.”

  “What shirt?” the sheriff asked on sudden alert.

  Renee blushed. “I had to check him out to see if he had a gun hidden. Of course, his shirt was there. Right on his back where it was supposed to be.”

  Fortunately, the lawman nodded at that explanation. “I thought maybe there was another shirt. Something with evidence.”

  “No, just the one shirt,” Rusty said. “I’ve borrowed the other clothes I’ve worn from Pete. I left my duffel with the rest of my clothes in the hayloft at my family’s old ranch. The place is deserted. No tools left in the barn and dust all over the house. The hay left in the loft will mold before long.”

  “The farm tools were sold at auction,” the sheriff said. “And I don’t think the new owners intend to use the buildings. The hay probably isn’t worth moving for them.”

  Rusty nodded. “It’s a solid place. Too bad they’re going to leave it to rot. The house wasn’t even locked. The furniture’s still inside. I didn’t go upstairs, but I expect the bedroom closets still have clothes in them.”

  “No one bid on the sofa and chairs in the auction,” the sheriff said. “It didn’t seem right somehow. I doubt anyone wanted the clothes.”

  “Someone apparently wanted that new Case IH tractor my father bought three years ago,” Rusty said. “Has a smooth ride. I didn’t see that anywhere around.”

  Renee had been going to step away, but that remark kept her in place. If he knew how the tractor rode, did that mean he’d been back at the ranch before the auction?

  “I’m not sure what the corporation that bought the place has done with anything,” the sheriff continued.

  Rusty nodded. He looked tired to her.

  “Before I came to church, I got some information back from the call Betty made to the sheriff in Havre,” the sheriff said then. “They didn’t have much on you, except your birth date and that you were in the army. They checked further and found you’d gotten a medal of some kind for saving your fellow soldiers in some explosion in Afghanistan.”

  “I’m not the one who deserves a medal,” Rusty said, his voice low and tinged with pain.

  Renee could tell he would rather go back to talking about farm equipment or his shirt than the medal he’d earned.

  “Are you sure your duffel will be safe over there?” Renee asked. “You could borrow a ranch pickup and go get it if you want.”

  “Thanks,” Rusty said, his voice returning to normal. “Pete said the same thing. I might do that later this afternoon.”

  Renee nodded. People were starting to leave the church.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the two men. “I want to say hello to my dad and Gracie before they hurry back home. If I know Gracie, she has something in the oven. And I need to check on Tessie, too.”

  The sheriff nodded and he and his family started down the aisle. By that time, her father and his wife were walking up the aisle toward her, with Tessie between them. Her father was limping a little from the fall he’d taken a few months ago, the pain of his movements adding a few lines to his still smiling face. Gracie’s long black hair was wound in a braid at the back of her neck and she wore a pretty yellow cotton dress.

  Rusty stood beside her, so she had no choice but to introduce him to the older couple when they drew close.

  “Dad, Gracie,” she greeted the two and gestured toward Rusty, “you’ve probably heard about the man who came to the Elkton ranch for help the other night. Rusty Calhoun.”

  “He has a wolf dog,” Tessie whispered in excitement as she squeezed their hands. “He licked me.”

  “She had jelly on her fingers,” Renee explained.

  “Dog usually has better manners,” Rusty said as he reached out his left hand to her father. “Sorry. My regular shaking hand is in this sling. But I’m pleased to meet you.”

  He then turned to Gracie and nodded. “Ma’am.”

  “Tessie is quite excited about your dog,” Gracie said with a smile. “That’s all she’s talked about since she came up the stairs from Sunday school.”

  Renee was relieved her daughter wasn’t still talking about castles and princes.

  “We heard you were in some trouble,” her father said, leaning forward to be sure to catch what Rusty had to say.

  “I owe your daughter my life,” Rusty agreed, nodding at her father.

  “I just did what anyone would do,” Renee protested and then looked over at Gracie. “No more than what you did for me last Christmas.”

  “It was the best surprise of all,” Gracie said as she smiled over at Renee. “I gained a daughter and a granddaughter.”

  The older woman looked down at Tessie fondly.

  “You’ve been good to us,” Renee said, her voice solemn. She didn’t know what was wrong with her today. Everything seemed to make her teary eyed.

  Renee blinked and Gracie reached over and squeezed her arm. “I expect all of this reminds you of how scared you were back then.”

  Maybe t
hat was it, Renee told herself in relief.

  Gracie turned to Rusty and gave him an approving nod. “I see you’re all fixed up. If you need some salve to help your scars heal, let me know.”

  Rusty shot a questioning look toward Renee.

  She shook her head slightly at him. “She’s talking about the scar from where you were shot.”

  Rusty looked back at Gracie and nodded. “I’d be grateful.”

  Almost everyone had left the church by now and Renee could hear the sounds of pickups and cars being started outside. She heard some rattling, too, which meant the wind had started to blow stronger. The light coming in the windows had lessened.

  “We’d love to have you come over for dinner,” Gracie said graciously, including Renee and Rusty both in her invitation. “It’s not much, but I did make a pumpkin pie yesterday to go with our spaghetti.”

  “I need to put the meal on the table in the bunkhouse,” Renee said. “Karyn usually does it, but she said she had something else to do today. It’s not much, either,” she assured Gracie. “Last night I took a batch of my spicy Mexican chili out of the freezer to thaw and I have some corn bread ready to mix when I get there.”

  “Nothing like chili on a cold day like today,” her father said approvingly. “That’s been a favorite in the bunkhouse since I can remember.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t mind if Tessie comes home with us for a few hours,” Gracie said. “We’ll bring her back this evening.”

  “Please!” Tessie added her own plea. “Grandma and Grandpa have new kittens.”

  “That we do,” Gracie agreed with a smile at the girl. “But I hear you want a puppy instead.”

  Tessie nodded. “But I like kitties, too.”

  “Fair enough,” Gracie said as she looked back at Renee. “Is that okay? I know it’s close to Christmas and you may have plans.”

  “Not today,” Renee said. “In fact, it will give me a chance to get some other things done.”