by Jenna Mindel
Faith wanted no part of that kind of payback. “None of that has anything to do with Dale. I wouldn’t care if he didn’t have a dime to his name, I’d—”
She stopped right there.
Her father tilted his head. “You’d what? Love him anyway? Takes more than that to live on.”
Faith closed her eyes as shame washed through her. She knew it took a common faith, and hope, but love was the greatest of these. It made all things possible. Love might open Dale’s heart to God.
Her father had really crossed the line trying to force something between her and Dale. Was she doing the same thing?
Faith tossed the lights down. “I’m not having this conversation. I’m going to get the decorations.”
“He’d be the perfect man for you, Faith. Think about that.” Her father’s voice carried.
She headed for the storage closet, more shaken than she wanted to admit. Her father had brought Dale to stay at Shaw Ranch because of an age-old family vendetta. Along with trying to marry her off. Again. Couldn’t he give her any credit that she could handle her love life on her own?
Faith shook her head. What mattered to her father was Dale’s money, and that made her sick. She didn’t want his money. Dale was worth so much more than that.
“Hey.” The man of her thoughts stood in the foyer.
Faith sucked in a breath and skidded to a halt on the tile floor. Had he heard any of that? She could barely look him in the eyes. “Hi.”
Dale set down his laptop case and stepped closer. “You look troubled.”
Faith nodded around the sudden lump in her throat.
“Come here.” He gently pulled her into his arms.
Tempting, but all she needed was her father seeing them locked together. Bracing her hands on Dale’s chest, she resisted. “Please don’t.”
“Let me help you get the decorations, then.” Dale gave her a crooked grin.
Faith gasped. “How’d you know that?”
“I overheard you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How much did you hear?”
Dale rested his hands on her shoulders. “Enough. Let’s get those decorations.”
Faith nodded but her stomach dropped somewhere near her toes. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell whether he was angry or amused. What could he possibly be thinking of her father? Of her?
With Dale on her heels, they walked down the steps to the lower level and she opened the door to the storage closet. “Everything’s in here.”
Dale looked around. “Nice and neat storage.”
Faith pointed to a row of bins marked Christmas on the shelves. “We need all those.”
“That’s a lot of decorations.” Dale stood with his hands on his hips, taking in the magnitude of their task.
“We have a big tree.”
He smiled at her. A warm smile that brought back what had happened between them in front of that tree. “That we do.”
“Dale—” She had to clear the air, tell him she didn’t know what her father was up to, but would he believe her?
“So Silas Massey was a thief.” He’d spoken the same time as she.
Faith’s knees gave out and she sat on the step stool. “You heard everything, didn’t you?”
Dale nodded. “Sorry.”
“I should be apologizing to you. Dale, my father’s got a lot of nerve. I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”
Dale laughed. “No worries.”
Faith tipped her head, trying to read the man in front of her, but his expression was closed. A polite facade of iron control like when he’d first arrived. “How can you say that?”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
She felt sick all over again. Dale was used to folks going after his money. Treating him differently because of it. Faith meant what she’d said. She didn’t care about the Massey fortune, she cared about the man. How could she make Dale believe that deep down in his heart?
“It all makes sense now.”
Dread skittered up her spine. “What does?”
“I wondered why Silas left Jasper Gulch and picked New York. I guess that’s the farthest place to run and easiest city to get lost in and hide. Especially with a stolen fortune that he wisely sunk into real estate.”
Faith considered this. “My father could have it all wrong.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Well, yeah, but it could be something else, too. They were both miners, maybe he’d jumped Ezra’s claim.”
“If he ripped off the bank and left a fledgling town to fend for itself, that’s pretty rotten and cowardly.”
“It was ninety years ago.” Faith watched him closely. Why was Dale getting so worked up over this?
“Doesn’t matter. The Massey men have a history of walking out on their responsibilities.” Dale’s voice had thickened.
He took this personally, as if Silas’s actions had set the stage for Dale’s own father’s betrayal. Life didn’t work like that, did it?
Faith remembered reading a scripture in the Old Testament that spoke of God not leaving the guilty unpunished, visiting iniquity on the third and fourth generations. But she also knew scripture that stated the son would not die for his father’s sin. Which was it here, maybe a little of both?
Regardless, Faith didn’t want Dale jumping to assumptions. “We don’t even know if the story’s true.”
He gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have a feeling your buddy Rusty might know.”
True. Rusty was old enough to remember the scuttle and then some. “And what if it is? What then?”
Dale looked serious but shrugged as he grabbed a bin. “I don’t know, but I need to find out the truth, don’t you think?”
“You can’t rewrite history.” Faith stacked one plastic bin atop another and lifted both.
Dale took her top bin. He already had two. “No, but I can do something about the future.”
Faith almost dropped her bin. What did he mean by that? “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure.”
Faith swallowed hard, experiencing for the first time the power of the Massey name that Dale wielded. What did she know about this man, really? Would he use his power to benefit Jasper Gulch or would his good intentions hurt her town further?
Chapter Eleven
“Come on, come on. Let’s decorate this tree.” Nadine herded her adult kids into the living room after dinner.
Christmas music played from a stereo system that Dale guessed had been put in when the house was built. An instrumental version of “Jingle Bells” surrounded him. He liked Faith’s version better.
Faith…
He believed her. She wasn’t in on her father’s machinations. She’d been genuinely upset by the mayor’s words. He’d heard the whole thing, clear as day. It didn’t mean he liked knowing what his great-great-grandfather had done, nor how the mayor wanted to use him for revenge. Did Jackson really think he could get his hands on the Massey millions by marrying off his daughter?
A tray of cookies had been placed on the coffee table, not that he had room to eat one after dinner. The tree he and Faith had brought home stood to the left of the fireplace. Faith’s monument of Christmas.
The power had come back on during dinner and everyone had cheered. But not Faith. She looked disappointed. He had to own he had enjoyed the novelty of the power outage, but he’d been out of the loop long enough. Glad for the time spent at the library to reconnect with Massey International, he still had work to do. Later, though. Not now. He didn’t want to miss this decorating of their tree.
“You, too, Dale.” Nadine patted his shoulder. “You can help string the lights.”
He looked around the room where the rest of the men were lounging on leather chairs and sofas, clicking through the channels on the flat-screen TV that hung above the fireplace mantel. The women tore open plastic tubs to uncover the treasures stashed within.
The mayor tended the fire with anot
her log or two. So different than Julian, and yet much the same. Both men threw their influence around. Jackson was used to ruling the roost, and Jasper Gulch, for that matter. The mayor saw him as a means to an end, just as Julian did. At least Jackson had a fierce love for his family. Dale had heard the mayor profess that love to his wife and kids. Julian had never uttered such words. Not to him.
Dale had always been a commodity. A good product that served Massey International well. And now the mayor wanted him for Faith because it would right some long-ago wrong. Poetic justice, he’d said. What about his daughter’s happiness? Did the mayor even consider that?
Dale glanced at Faith.
She hadn’t been her usual perky self during dinner. He’d known his share of women who’d been after him for more than his money. Prestige and social position, for instance. Again, Faith didn’t care about those, either. She’d grown up insulated in the comfort provided by her father’s ample provision, but seemed oblivious to it all.
Like many musicians, she didn’t think about her surroundings in terms of dollars and cents. Faith’s finer things in life were the intangibles. Things money couldn’t buy, like honoring her grandfather’s memory with the fiddle, working together on a puzzle or finding a Christmas tree. Things Dale had never experienced growing up.
She laughed at something her sister said as they plugged in a string of round, colored lights.
“Here, girls, you’re going to need this.” The mayor unfolded a stepladder and placed it near the tree.
“I’ll get the top.” Dale stepped forward. Faith couldn’t reach that even with the ladder.
She handed him the female end of the lights. “Make sure you tuck that somewhere easy to reach so we can plug in the star. We do that last.”
“Will do.” He tried to catch her eye as he accepted the task, but Faith wouldn’t look at him. She’d avoided his gaze all evening. No doubt she was ashamed of what her father had said. Dale didn’t want that, either. He wanted the chatterbox back.
Once the glowing lights were wrapped around and layered into the tree branches, the rest of the family got into the act of hanging ornaments. Dale sat this one out. He didn’t have a bin with his name on it.
Each member of the Shaw family hung ornaments they’d either made or been given from the time they were kids. Even Cord’s wife and the young girl named Marci, along with Julie’s husband, had each been given an ornament as new members of the family.
“I bought them right after last month’s wedding,” Nadine explained as she passed out the ornaments.
Another tradition.
Faith loved tradition. He could easily picture her with kids of her own. She’d tell them stories about their Shaw history and the town’s founding. Then she’d play the fiddle for them and they’d dance around their Christmas tree singing carols. A charming scene. Like something from a movie.
She finally glanced at him.
He stared back.
Faith smiled and returned to the business of decorating. Her movements were quick and sure. Ducking under the long arms of her brothers, she didn’t waste time placing her ornaments. She was the first one done.
By the time the decorations were on the tree and fussed over by Nadine, who’d rearranged them several times, Dale had downed a few cookies. And a glass of milk, compliments of Faith.
He’d miss this after he left Shaw Ranch. And this family atmosphere wasn’t his thing at all. In New York, he kept a pretty tight schedule. He got up, read the paper, checked the stock-market news and interest rates and then headed for work. Weekends typically consisted of more work, tennis at the club with friends, and a date or attendance at a dinner party. Dale glanced at the mayor, who sat in a leather recliner with his tablet, a deep furrow between his eyebrows. If Jackson was checking his email, he didn’t care for what he read, if that frown was any indication.
“Trouble, sir?” Dale couldn’t help baiting the man a bit.
The mayor gave him a shrewd look. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. One of the floats has a flat tire. You know how that is, now, don’t you?”
Dale didn’t miss the reminder of fixing Faith’s flat tire. The man had challenged him back. “Now that I know how to do that, maybe I can help.”
The mayor set aside the electronic device and shook his head. “No need. Already taken care of.”
Why did he get the feeling that wasn’t the issue at all? That maybe the mayor had made that one up? For what reason?
“Are you ready?” Faith brought him the star.
Dale would never willingly admit it, but his heart pumped a little harder at being given the honor. “You want me to do it?”
She nodded. “You found the tree.”
He’d found something else, too. Something he wasn’t ready for. Something he’d never be ready for.
Dale looked around the room. Nadine’s smile was a little too broad for comfort. The mayor had looked up, too. He wore a smug expression Dale wanted to wipe away. The others waited for his acceptance to place the star on top of the tree.
It was only a Christmas decoration.
He took the star from Faith’s hands, careful not to look into those big blue eyes of hers. He might not come back out.
Climbing up the stepladder, Dale jammed the rhinestone-encrusted gold star securely into place. He plugged it in and the star’s white lights shone brightly. Someone turned out the lamps and the family oohed and aahed. This was more than simply plugging in a Christmas decoration. He felt like he was part of something bigger—a family tradition.
He climbed down from the ladder, folded the thing up and leaned it against a wall. Then he turned and stared at the fully decorated tree with its cheesy gold star that actually looked rather regal up there. Despite the mismatched ornaments, the tree looked nice. Nothing like the fancy Christmas trees he was used to with tiny white lights and crystal. This was a real family tree.
His first real Christmas tree cut down by his own hands. He couldn’t shake the satisfaction in that.
Faith stepped near him. “Well?”
He draped his arm around her shoulders. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”
“I think so.” She rested her head against him and slumped as if a burden had been lifted. Did she think he’d hold what her father had said against her?
He wanted to chase away all the Shaws and kiss her again. And again. Find out how real these feelings he had for her were. But he knew better. There’d be no casting himself as the lead role in that movie of Faith’s future Christmases. Having a home and family to call his own tugged at his core like a fleeting wish upon a star. But the thing about movies, and Christmas movies in particular, was that they were fiction. They weren’t real.
He gave her a little squeeze and then let go. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her voice came out soft and sweet.
She pulled out of his grasp to help the women gather up the mess of storage-bin lids and tissue paper. He made a move to help her take them back downstairs, but Katie and Julie beat him to it. Good thing, too. He’d be wise to slow down when it came to Faith Shaw. There were things he needed to be sure of and things he needed to take care of before he left Jasper Gulch. The last thing he wanted to do to Faith Shaw was hurt her.
*
“Do you mind if I ride into town with you?” Dale had dressed in dark gray trousers and a turtleneck sweater that probably cost more than two of her orchestra paychecks. He wore his Montana boots, as he liked to call them. Smart man.
Faith felt casual in her best jeans and a pretty, blue sweater hand-knit by Julie over a simple white T-shirt. She planned to help set up tables for tonight, so comfort was a must. “I’m not coming back before homecoming,” she explained.
He smiled. “I know. I’ve got some things to take care of in town. I’d like to check out that new museum the librarian told me about. I’ll meet you at the high school.”
Faith nodded and bit back the question on her tongue. The museum wasn’t open y
et, so what else did he plan to do with his time before homecoming? Maybe track down Rusty Zidek? That was harmless enough.
She frowned. Why did she think Dale might do otherwise? Maybe because there was something different between them. Dale seemed almost wary of her. Did she have her father’s matchmaking attempts to thank for that, or something else? Dale had been holed up in his room working all morning and then again after lunch.
“Did you get your work done?” She slipped into her coat.
Dale wound her scarf loosely around her neck. “I did.”
She looked up at his clean-shaven face. She missed the whiskers. She’d miss him. He’d leave with his family after Thanksgiving and it hurt to think of him gone.
“What?” Dale tipped his head.
“Nothing.” Faith looked away before she begged him to stay.
Dale gathered the collar of her jacket and pulled her closer. “What’s the matter, Faith?”
She forced a smile. “Not a thing.”
He searched her eyes and leaned toward her.
Faith lifted her chin in response. Kissing him would make saying goodbye that much harder, but she could no more refuse his touch than forget her name.
“You guys heading out?” Julie’s voice rang out before she turned the corner. “Oh! Sorry.”
Faith backed away from Dale. “Ah, yeah. I’ll see you there.”
Julie glanced at Dale.
“He’s got business in town,” Faith explained.
Her sister’s eyes widened. “Oh?” When Dale didn’t offer up any information, Julie kept going. “Well, setup should be a snap. I think Mom and the Decorating Committee have been busy transforming the school cafeteria since lunchtime.”
Faith slipped outside after her sister, and Dale followed them silently.
No more kisses.
Not yet.
Faith needed to regroup and plan her next attack to scale the walls Dale kept in place around his heart. As she drove into town, Dale was preoccupied with his phone. Texting or something. Whatever it was, his fingers flew across the screen.