Silent Night in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

don’t know.” Jasmine didn’t want to show her disappointment in Wade’s response so she was glad the sheriff had started a new conversation. She turned to look at him. “There was a sale on nails. No one was buying, though.”

      “Things will pick up,” the sheriff added. He seemed to be struggling with his words, although she couldn’t imagine why. “People just need to be patient in these hard economic times.”

      Jasmine nodded. The pastor had asked for prayer for the store last Sunday. “I buy as much as I can there.”

      She tried to do everything that was mentioned in church, including the things that cost her money.

      The sheriff turned a little more so she could see his face even though the other man couldn’t. Then he winked at her. “There’s no need to say anything to the people at the store about the hard times—they might be embarrassed.”

      “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Carl,” the other man spoke out. His eyes were smoldering and his jaw was clenched. “You don’t need to warn people not to say anything to me. Everybody knows I’m the one who is supposed to get the handout. The people of Dry Creek just can’t leave well enough alone.”

      Jasmine wondered how anyone had ever thought that man could be an angel. He might not even be suited to being the innkeeper, and that role was written for a surly actor.

      “You should be grateful someone cares enough to help you.” Jasmine refused to listen to any complaint about her friends in the church here. They were perfect—every one of them.

      Although, she had to admit, they might have misjudged on this one. The man before her didn’t look like someone who needed a handout. She had pictured him with the watery, timid eyes of someone who was ashamed of needing help. Instead, he almost bristled with pride. And, here she’d contributed six perfectly good dollars to the collection for him.

      “I haven’t taken a handout since I was a kid,” the man said, and then pressed his lips together. “No reason to start again now.”

      “Well, I’m sure you can work enough to earn it if you want,” Jasmine said. “There are still some parts left in the pageant. King Herod, for one. And you could coach me if you would just unbend a little and relax about it.”

      The man grunted. “Unbend? You should be worrying about things breaking instead of them bending. The church should get one of those mannequins to swing around up there for an angel.”

      Jasmine blinked. “A mannequin can’t proclaim anything.”

      He shrugged. “Well, it’s your funeral.”

      He wasn’t suggesting it was dangerous, was he? She’d seen the pulley system; it was sturdy enough to swing an elephant across the barn.

      The man’s face didn’t change, but he did lift his coffee cup for a drink.

      Jasmine bit back her words. He was nothing like she’d expected. She wondered if God had sent him to her as some kind of a test. She secretly thought God should be a little choosier about who He let into His family, so she couldn’t fault Him if He wanted to see what she would do when provoked.

      “Wade here is Clarence Sutton’s grandson,” the sheriff finally said in the silence.

      Jasmine summoned up a polite smile and looked at the man. “You must be staying out with your grandfather then.”

      “Not likely.” The man’s eyes flared for a second and then turned cold.

      Apparently that scowl ran in the family along with his rather anti-social attitude. No one could accuse the elder Mr. Sutton of being neighborly, either. He lived next door to her father and the men had feuded for years. Still, Jasmine kept the smile on her face.

      “He’ll be spending the night at my place,” the sheriff injected smoothly. “I expect he’d like to see some of the countryside while he’s here, though. I figure he might as well drive out and pick you up for dinner. If that’s all right?”

      The sheriff smiled again.

      “Oh, he doesn’t need to do that.” She wanted to talk to the man about the role of the angel, but she could do that in a few minutes. She didn’t need any more time with him than was necessary, especially since he was so disagreeable. And arrogant. A man like him would probably think he was on a date with her if he drove her anywhere.

      “You can’t be riding that motorcycle at night,” the sheriff continued. “I’d have to ticket you for not having your backlights working and Barbara would be upset with me. It could ruin the whole dinner. Besides, it might rain. Riding with Wade will at least keep you dry.”

      Everyone was quiet again.

      “I might be able to borrow Edith’s car,” Jasmine finally said. Ever since Edith had gotten married for the second time, she didn’t drive her old car very much. Sometimes the car wouldn’t start right away, but Jasmine could get out and push it until it did if she had to.

      “I can drive you,” Wade said, and then added, “It’d be my pleasure.”

      He didn’t sound like it would be his pleasure and that made Jasmine feel better. It definitely wouldn’t be a date if neither one of them wanted it to be. And it was a cold night to be pushing a car. Maybe the test God was sending her was to see if she had the sense to stay out of the rain.

      “I guess it’d be okay,” she agreed.

      At least the man didn’t have bad breath or anything. And he nodded like he was a sensible person when he wasn’t scowling. He might not want to tell her how he’d managed to give such a spectacular performance in the pageant, but if he sat next to her long enough, he might say something about it out of sheer boredom since she didn’t plan to put any effort into making conversation with him.

      The sheriff beamed at her. “I’m glad you stopped by. It reminds me that I need to invite Edith and Charley, too. Barbara wanted to have the two of you and another couple to balance out her table. Some notion she got watching Martha Stewart on television.”

      “Oh.” Jasmine set her coffee cup down on the table. If the sheriff’s wife was watching good old Martha, Jasmine needed to find a hostess gift before she went. She was sadly lacking in homemaking skills, but gift-giving was something important in prison, too, so she’d learned the value of that. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”

      Wade watched the woman flee from the café before he turned back to his friend. “Are you happy now? You’ve pretty much scared her away, making her think she’s agreed to be a couple with me.”

      “Oh, she’d never think that. The women have her paired up with Conrad.”

      “Conrad?” Wade frowned.

      “Nelson,” the sheriff added. “Edith’s his aunt now that she married Charley.”

      Wade remembered a kid by that name. He came to town during the summers to visit the Nelsons. Wade didn’t think much of a man who relied on his aunt for matchmaking. “He doesn’t seem like much of a go-getter in the romance department.”

      The sheriff snorted. “You should talk. I don’t see a wedding ring on your finger.”

      Wade glared at his friend.

      “Besides, I’m helping you set up your cover,” the sheriff continued like he hadn’t noticed Wade’s look. “Lonely grandson comes home to be with his grandfather for the holidays. I can hear the Christmas bells ringing already.”

      “I don’t need a cover.” Wade gritted his teeth. “There’s no reason to follow that woman around. I’m going home tomorrow.”

      Wade felt hollow the second he said the last. Who was he kidding? He never really thought of his apartment in Idaho Falls as home. His furniture was rented and all that the refrigerator ever held were takeout cartons and a few bottles of soft drinks and water. Half of the time he didn’t even get his mail before someone