“I’m headed to Orene’s. Anyone want to pile on?” Tucker’s truck had a flatbed, one of those diamond-plate jobs, making it easier to throw stuff on the back and get on the move when timing mattered most. Which was often in his line of work.
Half a dozen guys ran out and hopped on.
“Shotgun,” yelled Doris, as she lagged behind. The rest of the guys squished into the back seat of the crew cab.
Tucker rolled down the window. “Hang on!”
It wasn’t but a couple of blocks to Orene’s, but just in case there was a call, Tucker never walked anywhere he could drive.
When Tucker pulled to a stop at the curb in front of Orene’s, the guys tumbled out of his truck like elves on too much eggnog, laughing and bantering all the way inside.
Tucker followed along behind the rest of them, carrying a four-foot-tall red stocking that he’d filled with individually wrapped portions of homemade turkey and venison jerky. Green bags contained turkey jerky, and red ones, the color of Rudolph’s shiny nose, were for the venison.
On the white band at the top of the stocking, Tucker had glued a gift tag:
TAKE ONE—NAUGHTY OR NICE
Homemade Jerky by Tucker
Orene’s place was already teeming with activity when he walked in.
Kids raced around the yard, in and out of the colorfully lit shrubbery, in a rambunctious game of tag. Amped up because it was the last day of school until the new year, they were probably supercharged on cookies and cupcakes too if he had to guess.
The huge magnolia tree looked nice. Tucker and his guys had brought over the ladder truck to string thousands of white lights all the way to the tippity top, then spread big red, green, and silver balls nearly the size of soccer balls on it for Orene.
Inside, the house smelled of savory and sweets.
Stretch, owner of the Trout & Snout down the block, carried in a towering stack of to-go boxes and placed them on the entry table.
“Thanks, Stretch,” Tucker said.
“Figured maybe there’d be fewer leftovers at the end of the night if we gave folks an easy way to take some home.”
“Good thinking.” Jesse, who ran the company that supported the senior care center, patted Stretch on the back of the shoulder. “I’ll take some over to the seniors. We’ve got quite a few residents who won’t even have a visitor. A nice packaged meal or dessert will make their day.”
“That’s unfortunate. Let me know how we can help out over there, Jesse.” Tucker’s heart went out to those whose families seemed to forget them. “I can send the junior firefighters’ club over to visit. They are logging hours at the station house over Christmas break.”
“That’d be great. Maybe have them change the batteries in the smoke detectors and check the fire extinguishers, and just spend a little face time with the residents while they are there.”
“Sure thing. Consider it done.”
“Hey, Tucker.” Randy, the newest resident of Chestnut Ridge, walked over and joined him and Jesse. “Just the man I was looking for.”
“Me?” Tucker asked. Randy was a good guy. It had taken Tucker a minute to get used to the idea of Natalie finding interest in someone. After all, she’d been married to his best friend, Jeremy. It was still hard to believe Jeremy was gone. But Randy fit right in here, and if he had to guess he’d probably end up the next sheriff in this town. And they were starting to become pretty good friends.
“Yes,” Randy said, lowering his voice. “I was wondering if I could get you to help me with a surprise for Natalie.”
“Of course. Name it.”
Randy looked over his shoulder. “I don’t want to take a chance on her overhearing, so I’ll stop by the station if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Stop by anytime. I’ll be helping the team get our Christmas Stroll tree started Monday and Tuesday, but I’ll be at the firehouse the rest of the week.”
“We’ll be decorating Monday night, too,” Randy said. “I’ve been reduced to the role of resident mule. Lifting, hauling, and toting.”
“You’ll get paid in cookies. It’s not too bad a gig.”
“I’ll stop by on Wednesday. Don’t let Natalie know we’ve talked. It’s a surprise.” Randy waved as he slid between two people and worked his way back toward the living room.
“Hey there, Chief.” The New Orleans twang still lingered in Nelle’s accent, even though she’d been in Chestnut Ridge for years.
Tucker turned to see Nelle holding two huge plastic containers stacked one on top of the other. Tucker greeted Nelle with a hug. Paul Grandstaff stood beside her.
“Mr. Grandstaff, you’re looking well, sir,” Tucker said.
“Thank you. Merry Christmas.” He leaned his weight on the ornate shiny silver handle of his cane. “My, there are a lot of people here. I guess I didn’t realize what I was missing all these years.”
“Tried to tell you, boss.” Jesse wrapped an arm around Nelle’s curvaceous waist. “Not good to be alone all the time.”
Paul Grandstaff didn’t look so convinced, but he forced a smile.
Tucker had heard that Jesse and Nelle had become chummy over the past year, but this was the first time he’d seen them together.
“You can’t tell that man anything,” Nelle teased Jesse about Paul.
Tucker nodded to Nelle with a wink. “What’d you bring?”
She gave him a playful smirk. “What’s your favorite?” She laid on that Cajun accent heavier than usual.
Tucker shifted the stocking to his other hand, trying to ascertain what she might have in the semiopaque containers. “Don’t make me guess from all of your wonderful dishes, Nelle.” Tucker narrowed his gaze, twisting his lips into a silly pucker. “I’m hoping for jambalaya.”
“You just made Santa Nelle’s nice list, boy. It is my jambalaya!”
Tucker fist pumped the air. “Let’s make it mine! I’m off to hunt down a bowl.” He shot forward, then spun around. “Don’t you take that lid off until I make it over to the table!”
“Can’t promise you won’t be the only one banging their plastic spoons for my jambalaya.” Nelle’s hearty laughter was turning heads. “Go on now, but hurry on back.”
He jolted for the kitchen, but only made it two steps before he slammed right into someone with an oomph. “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” He dropped the stocking to steady her by the shoulders as she went off-balance.
“Sorry!” the woman squeaked out. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” she said, nearly breathless. Her shiny auburn hair swung over her shoulder as she regained her footing, and then she brushed away drops of Orene’s orange sherbet punch from the front of her top.
“It was me. Forgive me. Look what I did.” He swept at the droplets that had spilled from her punch cup, then withdrew. “You should probably do that yourself.” He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket. “Here. Use this.”
“Thank you.” Her emerald-green eyes connected with his; then she took the square and dabbed. “It’s fine. No harm done.” Her glance fell to the ground, where the bag of jerky lay between them.
“What’s with that?” She pointed to the stocking. “Don’t they usually make Santa wear a furry red suit?”
“Well—”
“Wait a minute. You’re not the Grinch, are you? Did you steal that? I was just in the other room where ours were hung by the chimney with care.” A playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “Uh-huh. I’ve caught you red-handed.”
He leaned down and snagged the stocking. “I promise I brought this one with me.”
“Sure you did. Who doesn’t travel with a giant red stocking? Which looks to be quite heavy,” she noticed. “Suspiciously so!”
“It’s full of homemade turkey and venison jerky.”
“Like salty dried meat?” She shivered. “Sounds like a heart-attack sack if you ask me.”
“May not be elf-approved, but it’s good, and contrary to popular opinion, aside from the salt content it’s pretty good for you. Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“I’ll try to withhold judgment.” Realization crossed her expression. “We’ve met. You’re Tucker. Right?”
“I am. You…?” He couldn’t place her for the life of him, but he never forgot a pretty face, and this woman was worth remembering.
“It was brief. I didn’t expect you to remember. I’m Sheila.” She stuck out her hand. “Natalie’s friend. I’m staying with Orene while I’m here to help Natalie with the Christmas Tree Stroll.”
“She said she had a secret weapon. I didn’t know it was a who and not a what.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged.
“What would it take for me to buy you over to my team?”
“I can’t be bought.”
He wasn’t so sure of that, but he really didn’t need any more help on his team. He was just enjoying the banter at the moment. “Everyone has their price.”
“Not this girl.”
“Hmmph. We’ll see about that.” He liked a woman with some spirit.
“What? Are you just going to run me over again if I don’t?”
“No. Sorry about that. It really was an accident. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. Your hair? It’s longer. A lot longer.”
She ran her hand through it. “No. It’s the same, but the last time I saw you was in the middle of the summer and the humidity was as high as the temperature. If I had to guess, I was wearing it up.”
“Yeah.” He nodded slowly, now remembering. “The ballerina bun.”
She cocked her head and laughed. “Never really thought of it like that. But okay.”
“I like it this way.” He reached out and touched the curling tendril hanging in front of her shoulder. “Very pretty.”
She reached her hand to where he’d just touched her. “Thank you.”
The sweet floral smell of her perfume teased his nose. He wanted to lean in for another whiff, but he held himself together. “Maybe you could share a few ideas with me.”
“Are you digging for insider information for the most important competition in Chestnut Ridge over the holidays?”
“Would it work?”
She cocked her hip. “Never.”
“I thought as much. Well, you might feel differently after I share this with you. Nelle”—he nodded over his shoulder at the New Orleans–bred woman behind him—“she brought her homemade jambalaya. You do not want to miss out on this. I was just rushing off to get a bowl when I bumped into you. A happy accident it seems. Come on, we’ll find two.” He grabbed her hand, and she let him lead her to the kitchen. In a few seconds, they were on Nelle’s heels before she unsealed the lid on the container.
When Nelle picked up the ladle, Tucker had two bowls set out.
“Boy, you’ve got better manners than that,” she scolded him.
“I’m serving Sheila first,” he said, looking for approval. “She’s a guest.”
Nelle’s lips pulled into a thin line, and then with a hearty heap she filled the bowls. “Oh, well, that’s entirely different.”
“See,” he said to Sheila. “Nelle likes me. You will too.”
“We’ll see.” Sheila raised her brow.
He handed her one of the bowls. “Come on, let’s go sit on the front porch and enjoy this under the Christmas lights. Did I mention I was the one who hung those twenty thousand lights in the magnolia tree?”
“That sounds like a lot of lights. Are you always this helpful?”
“I try to be.”
She laughed, but he hadn’t meant for it to sound like a joke.
They stepped outside and Sheila immediately hunched her shoulders. “It’s freezing out here.”
“The temperature has dropped, hasn’t it.” He waved her to follow. “Come on. The jambalaya will warm you up.” He ushered Sheila to the rockers at the far end of the porch. “Sit.” Here the wind was blocked.
“Thanks.” Sheila took a bite. “Oh my gosh. I’m so glad you persuaded me to cut in line for this. I didn’t think I liked Cajun food, but this is really good, and perfect on a chilly night.”
“Nelle is an amazing cook. She takes over the lunch counter a few days a week in the back of the hardware store on Main Street.”
“In the hardware store?” She dropped the spoon in her bowl and pushed her hand into her pocket to keep it warm.
“Well, years ago it was the pharmacy and there was a soda fountain. Now it’s a hardware store. And Nelle’s lunch counter. She’s open for lunch—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”
“Nice schedule.”
“You should get Natalie to take you. I’m sure she’s been. It’s a local favorite.”
“I’ll do that. What do you suggest I order?”
“There’s no menu. Which is kind of the beauty of it. No choices to make.”
“There are days I wish I didn’t have to make one more choice.”
“I know. You’re having whatever Nelle is cooking. No one has ever complained about it once she started doing that.”
“Count me in.” She took another bite. “I can’t believe how many people are still coming and going. Oh my gosh. Look over there, those people are all wearing matching sweaters! It’s like a parade.”
“That’s the Mullaney family. Looks like all six kids and the cousins are with them.” Their sweaters were bright green, with a reindeer on the front and a blinking red nose bobbing from the center. Bells on the felt antler headbands jingled as they filed inside in a chorus of Merry Christmases. “Never a dull moment at this party. Are you enjoying it?”
“I am.”
Softly spoken, the words seemed sincere, and it was as if her green eyes were looking straight into his heart.
Dang, Nelle, is there some kind of Louisiana Cupid spell in this jambalaya?
He gave his spoonful a suspect glance, but then took the bite anyway.
It wasn’t a bad feeling. Just a little unexpected.