A Baby for Dry Creek and A Dry Creek Christmas. Janet Tronstad

asking me that, were you?”

      “I never thought you would—” Reno took a deep breath. “I mean, not that if I had thought you would—I’d—of course, I’d not—”

      “Would you two like more water?” a cheerful blond waitress inquired as she stepped closer to the table.

      Chrissy said, “Yes.”

      At the same time Reno said, “No.”

      The waitress glanced at Reno’s face and hesitated. “I’ll come back.”

      Chrissy didn’t blame the waitress. She would have run away, too.

      “I never would suggest that you come live with me in that way.” Reno said the words slowly. Chrissy only had to look into his eyes to know he was sincere. “Of course, you probably know that I find you attractive, so it’s not that I wouldn’t want to—”

      “Really?” Chrissy was feeling better already. So Reno found her attractive.

      “I asked you out,” Reno said indignantly. “You were the one who refused.”

      “I was pregnant.”

      “Pregnant women eat.”

      “So you thought I needed help and you decided to ask me to move to Dry Creek?”

      Reno nodded.

      “Well, I still don’t need your charity.” Chrissy crossed her arms. She’d already thought about moving back to Dry Creek, and she’d gone over in her mind any possible jobs. There were none that she could see.

      “Who mentioned charity? I’m offering you help.”

      “I don’t take handouts. I need a job to support myself and Justin.”

      “Mrs. Hargrove thought you could stay with her.”

      Chrissy blinked. “Mrs. Hargrove? Does she know about Justin?”

      Reno nodded. “She’s the one who started this idea.”

      “Mrs. Hargrove wants me to move there and stay with her?” Chrissy had liked Mrs. Hargrove when she met the older woman at Thanksgiving dinner at the Redfern Ranch. But Mrs. Hargrove was clearly a churchwoman, and Chrissy had always thought churchwomen looked down on unmarried mothers. She knew they had looked down on her mother years ago. “And she knows about Justin? Isn’t she worried that I don’t have a husband?”

      “Not that she’s mentioned.”

      “Why?” Chrissy crossed her arms. “Why would she want me to come stay with her when you and I both know she has to think I’m one of those sinners?”

      Reno smiled. “Mrs. Hargrove teaches first-grade Sunday school. She thinks everyone is a sinner.”

      “Well, if she thinks that, then why—”

      Reno interrupted her softly. “She also knows about forgiveness and grace. She knows life isn’t always easy.”

      Chrissy relaxed her arms. Maybe there were people like Mrs. Hargrove who weren’t set on judging her. “Well, if I had a job—”

      “We’ll worry about a job when we get there.”

      Chrissy’s cell phone rang. She kept the phone clipped to her waitress uniform, so it was still in place. Chrissy reached down to unhook the phone, and she put it to her ear. “Hello?”

      “There’s a fire!” Mrs. Velarde said breathlessly. “I called the fire department, but it’s still burning.”

      “Grab Justin and get out of the house!” Chrissy stood up from the table.

      “Not my house,” Mrs. Velarde said, and then she took a deep breath.

      Chrissy relaxed. “Just stay inside, then, until the fire department gets there.”

      “It’s your mother’s house,” Mrs. Velarde continued.

      Chrissy turned to Reno.

      Reno had already stood and laid three twenties on the table. “Let’s go.”

      As Reno drove faster than he should down the street toward her mother’s house Chrissy reminded herself that her mother was working late. Please, let her be working late, Chrissy added, and realized in surprise that it was the first time in her life that she could remember praying. It must be all this talking with Reno. She hoped Mrs. Hargrove’s God was listening to her.

      The sharp, hot smell of burning wood grew stronger as Reno drove the car to the fire truck parked in front of Chrissy’s mother’s house.

      “Was anyone inside?” Chrissy called out to a fireman before Reno had pulled the car to a stop.

      The fireman shook his head. “Didn’t look like it.”

      Chrissy slumped against the car seat. “If she had been there, she could have died.”

      “They would have gotten her out.”

      “I need to go to Dry Creek with you,” Chrissy said softly. “If he will set fire to my mother’s house, he will do anything. My mother’s not safe with me here, and neither is Justin.”

      “I’m sure they’d never hurt Justin.”

      Chrissy grimaced. “I know. All they want to do to him is take him away from me.”

      Chrissy turned at the sound of another car driving down their street much too fast. The car braked and her mother stepped out and started running toward the house. “Chrissy!”

      “I’m over here, Mom,” Chrissy called from the car window.

      Then she stepped out of the car and into her mother’s arms.

      Reno watched Chrissy hug her mother. So Chrissy was coming back to Dry Creek with him. He wished it hadn’t taken a fire to make her decide. It sure hadn’t been his charm that had swayed her in the direction of Dry Creek. Still, he’d feel better knowing she and Justin would be where he could keep an eye on them. Strangers would be easy to spot in Dry Creek.

      Reno remembered the interstate that ran past the Dry Creek exit and frowned. A car could pull into the town at night and no one would notice. Chrissy and Justin would be a lot safer at the Redfern Ranch than in Dry Creek. His dog, Hunter, would frighten off any trouble from the city. Maybe once he got Chrissy and Justin to Dry Creek he could mention the safety of the ranch.

      Chapter Five

      The smell of burned wood and rubber hung in the air as Chrissy put a box into the trunk of Mrs. Hargrove’s car. The car was parked in the Velarde driveway, and Chrissy’s mother was inside at the Velarde kitchen table. Most of what Chrissy owned had been burned in the fire, so Mrs. Velarde had given her a cardboard box to pack what was left. Quite a few of Justin’s things were all right, because they had been with him at the Velarde house.

      The only other things that Chrissy still owned for herself were several sequin-dresses from her days as a cocktail waitress in Las Vegas. She’d given the dresses to Mrs. Velarde to keep for the Salvation Army truck when it came by for donations. Now she’d need to wear them sometimes, even if it was only when she had her orange waitress uniform in the washing machine.

      The small box fit into the trunk beside the spare tire. It wasn’t much to start a life with, and Chrissy was glad Reno had sounded as if he felt she could find a job. If she had a job, she could buy some more clothes and a few toys for Justin.

      Her mother had surprised Chrissy by urging her to move to Dry Creek.

      “The Lord knows you’re used to moving. I’d feel better knowing the two of you are safe,” Chrissy’s mother said as she looked over at Reno and smiled slightly. “Besides, I’ll know you’re with family there, and that makes me feel better.”

      Reno frowned. “We’re not really related. Just by