White Christmas in Dry Creek

“That’s why I call him Dog. To remind people.”

“Oh.”

“Tell Pete thanks, too.”

Rusty was going to owe a lot of people before this was all over.

“I—ah.” The woman nodded and then stood up. “I came because I called the Elktons this morning and told them what happened last night. Mr. Elkton wanted me to pass along an invitation for you to stay in the bunkhouse, if you want—with the ranch hands. Mr. Elkton said he remembered you from when you’d worked for him a few days when you were a boy.”

“Really? He remembered me after all these years?”

That touched him.

Renee nodded. “He said he’d never seen a kid work like you did. And all for a necklace. Wouldn’t even take a break for a soda. And then you came back two extra Saturdays and chopped wood because you thought he’d overpaid you the first time.”

“We Calhouns don’t take charity.” Rusty wouldn’t have been able to buy the necklace in time if he hadn’t accepted the man’s extra money, though.

“Well, I hope whoever you bought those pearls for appreciated it,” Renee said politely. “Mr. Elkton remembered you describing it to him. Said you talked about it being the most beautiful strand of pearls ever strung together.”

“I should have taken those pearls out and buried them like Dog does his bones in the backyard,” he said bitterly.

“Oh.”

Renee looked at him for a bit.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he finally admitted. “They were proper pearls. Still are. It’s not their fault they weren’t good enough.”

He saw no point in stirring up past heartache. He’d bought the pearls for his mother’s birthday, only to have her leave home with some guy in a pickup five hours after Rusty had given the necklace to her. She didn’t even have the courage to tell his father what she was doing. She’d left when his father was out in the fields and Rusty had to tell him what happened. Rusty hadn’t known his mother had left the necklace behind until he went to bed and saw it on his pillow. No note or anything with it.

They had been the best pearls Rusty could afford, but they were not good enough for her. Something in him had given up that day. Maybe that was why he never seemed to understand those pretty, delicate-looking women like his mother. He’d never tried again to please a woman—and now the same kind of soul-churning woman stood in front of him with that hesitant look on her face, clearly unsure of how she felt about him.

Putting the past behind him, he stood up, military tall. “Tell Mr. Elkton that I appreciate his offer of a place to stay.”

“Well, it’s just a temporary arrangement until you can get settled somewhere else,” Renee added and then swallowed. “We just— He didn’t know if you had anywhere to go.”

“I’ll do something while I’m there to earn my keep. And I’m serious when I say I want to pay you for the care you gave me last night.”

“I didn’t do much,” the woman said with a shrug that reminded him again of his mother. They both looked as if they carried the weight of the world on their backs and were too fragile to survive. His heart always went out to women like that.

“Well, I’d still like to pay you something,” he said. Right was still right, even if he shouldn’t get involved with her.

She looked at him again for a minute.

“Maybe you could do me a small favor,” she finally said, biting the corner of her lips nervously.

“Of course.”

“I want you to talk to my daughter.”

Rusty was surprised. “I don’t really have much in common with little girls.”

Truthfully, he’d rather give the woman a few hundred dollars.

“Just tell her you don’t have a message from her father,” the woman said in a rush. “That you don’t even know her father. Tell her you’re not a prince.”

“I guess I could do that,” he said slowly. “Those things are all true.”

And they were fairly obvious, he would think, even to a child.

The woman nodded. “Good, then. It’s settled. Tessie is at the practice for the nativity pageant. You can come with me to pick her up.”

Rusty nodded.

“Just be careful not to volunteer to play a part.”

“Me?” No one had ever suggested he belonged in a pageant before. The thought was rather alarming. “I don’t think I’m the type.”

“Good.” Renee seemed relieved. “The kids are so impressionable at that age.”

“I’m sure they’re all angels,” he assured her, trying not to let it sting that she thought he was a danger to the children.

She laughed and left his room, much to his relief.

It took the hospital five minutes to find his clothes and another forty-five minutes to discharge him. Rusty wasn’t sure Renee would still be waiting for him, but he found her in the lobby area, leafing through a magazine.

He walked toward her. “Thanks for staying.”

She stood up. “Later you’ll be able to share the pickups that the ranch hands drive around. But until then, I figure all you have is your horse. Unless you want to ride around on that wolf of yours.”

Rusty nodded. “Dog is pretty big, all right. Thanks for looking out for him and Annie. I’ll take them back to the Morgan ranch as soon as I can ride. Unless I’ve found a place to rent by then. And I’ll ask around for a pickup to buy.”

He didn’t want her to think he was poor. He’d never given much thought to money when he was in the service, but he did have a good-sized savings account.

“You should wait to spend any money until you get the hospital bill,” she said. “You might be amazed at how much it costs to get fixed up now that you’re not in the army. I know you’ve had your share of hospital stays.”

There was something off about the look she gave him then, as though she had a secret and it was making her blush. Why would she care about his hospitalizations, anyway? How did she even know about them?

It wasn’t until he followed her outside that he figured it out.

Chapter Three

Renee opened the door to the backseat of the cab and pulled out a long-handled white scraper. Without saying anything to Rusty, she cleared her usual small hole in the ice on the windshield. She had expected him to walk around to the other side of the pickup and sit inside while she finished. After all, it was cold enough outside to see their breath and he’d just been released from the hospital.

But he stood behind her waiting, one free hand tucked in the pocket of his jacket and the other curled up in that sling.

“That’s it,” she informed him cheerfully after scraping the small space twice. She did it once for the ice and then again for the snowflakes that had started to fall.

“That’s not enough.” Rusty held out his hand. “Here. Give it to me.”