Kathryn Springer - Jingle Bell Babies

Fortunately, Lori had the day off from her job at the hospital, which would give her time to contact the personnel department at the hospital and talk to Janet, her supervisor.

Another factor that had proven God was at work in the situation. In fact, the longer Lori had thought and prayed about it, the more she realized that seemingly small and insignificant details now looked like signposts, directing her down a different path than the one she’d been on.

She wouldn’t have known Jesse was looking for a nanny if Nicki hadn’t called and asked for her help in the church nursery the night before. And just last week, Lori’s landlady mentioned her niece had moved back to High Plains and needed a place to stay. She asked if Lori wanted to renew her lease, which was due the second week in December. Lori had told her that she planned to stay—but the lease agreement remained on her desk, still unsigned. Lori couldn’t help but think that her landlady would be happy to offer the unit to a family member.

Even if Lori believed in coincidences—which she didn’t—it would have been impossible to ignore the verse she’d read during her devotional time—the one she’d memorized while packing her suitcase. The one she silently repeated as she wove through a maze of baby jumpers and followed Jesse to the second floor.

A spacious landing opened up at the top of the stairs, and Jesse turned down the hallway to the left.

“You can have the room that adjoins the nursery.” His husky voice dropped to a whisper as he nudged the door open.

Lori braced herself, ready to pretend to be enthusiastic.

Only, this time she didn’t have to pretend.

The color scheme was a serene combination of subdued ivory, sage-green and a vibrant shade of blue that reminded Lori of Jesse’s eyes….

The sky, she quickly corrected the errant thought. It reminded her of the sky.

She ventured farther into the room, aware that Jesse had put her suitcase down and moved aside to allow her to explore.

A queen-size antique four-poster bed, covered by a double wedding-ring quilt, dominated the room. Hand-hooked wool rugs had been strategically placed in front of the matching nightstands and the window. All places where bare feet might linger.

A sepia-toned photo of a man and woman held a prominent place on the wall above the headboard. Instead of staring somberly at the camera, typical for photographs taken during that era, the young couple was smiling at each other.

“My ancestors, Will and Emmeline Logan.” Jesse stood beside her and Lori’s heart did that crazy skip-hop thing again. “Will and Zeb Garrison founded High Plains in 1858, and Will married Emmeline a few years after that.”

Lori forced herself to concentrate on the photo instead of the appealing, masculine scent of the man standing beside her.

More than a hundred years separated the two men, and yet the family resemblance was uncanny. Will Logan had the same bone structure—angular jaw and deep-set eyes—but his smile held a hint of mischief. “Was it your great-grandfather who started the Circle L?”

Jesse nodded. “He built the house for Emmeline. The ranch has been run by one of their descendants ever since.”

Lori felt a stab of envy. What would it feel like to be part of such a strong family line? To share a legacy that had bonded its members together for more than a hundred years?

Her own family had splintered and fallen apart the summer after Lori had graduated from high school.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “You must feel very blessed.”

“Not everyone would agree with your opinion.” Jesse pivoted sharply on his heel. “I’ll show you the rest of the house and then I have to get to work. Clay is probably already in the barn waiting for me.”

Lori found herself staring at his retreating back.

Not everyone would agree…

Agree with what? That his home was beautiful—or that he’d been blessed?

The headache that had anchored its claws in the back of Jesse’s skull during the night finally worked its way around to his temples.

He hadn’t expected Lori Martin’s innocent questions to bring back an avalanche of memories…and regrets.

Marie had never described the house as beautiful. The first time she visited she labeled it “quaint,” and Jesse, who’d taken it as a compliment, remembered thanking her. But several months after the wedding, she’d complained the rooms were too small and she felt cramped without adequate storage space. Without discussing it with him first, she’d talked to her father. Philip not only had an architect draw up a new blueprint, but then generously offered to pay the expenses so they could build something more suited to their style.

What Marie didn’t understand was that the ranch was Jesse’s style.

And he thought it had been hers.

Memories lapped against the walls Jesse had shored up around his heart.

The truth was, both of them had assumed a lot about each other.

They’d met at a rodeo, when Marie had come to town on what she described as a “girls’ getaway” weekend. She sat down next to Jesse on the makeshift bleachers, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she told him that her friends had dared her to kiss a cowboy.

Unable to resist her charming smile, Jesse planted his favorite Stetson on Marie’s head and kissed her on the cheek instead, surprised at his own boldness.

They had dinner that evening. And the next.

Marie extended her weekend stay to an entire week. When she finally left, she took Jesse’s heart with her. After more than ten years of pouring his heart and soul into making the ranch a success, he’d been ready for someone to share it with.

Jesse had always been the levelheaded one when it came to life and relationships, but in spite of Maya’s reservations, he proposed to Marie on Valentine’s Day and they married less than six months later.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for Jesse to realize that Marie had a romanticized, Hollywood view about life on a ranch. Emergencies ignited like brush fires, and as the owner of the Circle L, it was Jesse’s responsibility to put them out. Night or day. Marie started to resent the hours he spent apart from her. She resisted Maya’s attempts to befriend her, and refused to become part of the tight-knit community, but still complained that she was bored.

Bitterness scoured the lining of Jesse’s stomach. He’d opened his heart and taken a risk. And in the end he’d lost.

He didn’t blame Marie, he blamed himself. He’d written a fairy tale of his own—one in which he and his wife would work side by side during the day and sit together on the porch swing in the evening, waiting for the first star to appear in the sky. They’d laugh together. Raise a family together. The way his parents had.

But the reality? More arguments than laughter. And too many nights when Jesse had sat on the porch swing alone while Marie sat inside watching television or talking on the phone.

He didn’t feel blessed.

“Mr. Logan? Jesse?” Lori Martin stood beside him, concern reflected in the depths of her amber eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Jesse’s lips twisted.

Maybe she was worried that she’d agreed to work for someone who was losing his mind. Not that Jesse blamed her. A few times over the past few months, he’d wondered about that himself.

He frowned as his gaze dropped to the constellation of pale cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of Lori’s nose.

Funny, he hadn’t noticed them until now.

With a jolt, Jesse realized he hadn’t noticed how young she was, either. Probably in her mid-twenties. Her smile seemed to appear without warning or reason, and the lively sparkle in her eyes was evidence of a life that hadn’t been touched by disappointment.