Page 3 of Evergreen Christmas
Twenty-five years old now, she’d traveled the road, touring the rodeo circuit, for seven years, her only family being Star, an eleven-year-old white mare she’d saved from a fed-up owner seven years ago. A hot, high-powered quarter horse, Star had had the potential to be a champion in the arena, but she was pushy, temperamental, aggressive and—according to those who’d ridden her—had no manners. That alone had been enough to entice Jordyn into taking on the challenge of training the stubborn mare, but the vulnerability she’d noticed in Star’s eyes—a wary, wounded look Jordyn recognized immediately—had sealed the deal. And Star must’ve sensed a kindred spirit in Jordyn as she’d grudgingly allowed Jordyn to lead her through months of training sessions to prepare for their first barrel race.
In the end, Star had a huge motor, was the best at her job and formed a strong bond with Jordyn, becoming a sweet companion who kept Jordyn’s spirits and hopes high during their long journeys on the road. Star had become more than just a horse; Star was her best friend, sister, and only family in the world. And now, for the first time in years, both of them would truly have a home of their own.
Jordyn glanced in the rearview mirror at the trailer she hauled. Star would be ready to stretch her legs by now, and she couldn’t wait to get the mare onto the firm ground of their new land.
“Your destination is fifteen feet ahead on the right.”
Jordyn slowed the truck at the direction of the voice emitted from the navigation system on her dashboard. “We’re almost home, Star.”
And just then, the winding mountain road dipped and leveled out, revealing the rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, a dirt road leading to the right and a small log house just visible from the road. Jordyn recognized it instantly.
“That’s it!” Jordyn palmed the steering wheel and turned onto the dirt drive. “We’re here, Star. We’re finally here!”
She drove slowly along the dirt road and placed a palm on the top of the red coffee cup in the cupholder, keeping it steady and avoiding potholes. When she reached the log house, she cut the engine, opened her door and hopped out, inhaling deeply and holding the clean cold mountain air in her lungs.
It was a beautiful sight! Sprawling acres of dormant grass, a small but perfectly adorable log home, and impressive mountains in the distance. She couldn’t quite believe she was really here. And though financially broke after the purchase, she had high hopes that Noel and Chestnut Ridge held good things for both her and Star. All she needed to do was build a strong foundation for her new horse-breeding business, find her place among the close-knit locals and hope her presence would be accepted—no. . . welcomed!
That was what she hoped for most of all. To be welcomed into the beautiful town of Noel, to make new friends whom she hoped would one day feel like family. That possibility made the financial gamble worthwhile.
Jordyn clapped her hands and squealed, then jogged to the back of the trailer and opened it, leading Star out of the trailer.
“Ready to check out our new home, beautiful?” Jordyn stroked Star’s neck and smiled as the mare shook her head, her long white mane rippling over her broad neck. “I know,” she soothed. “You’ve been cramped up in that trailer for way too long. How ’bout we take a walk around our new property so you can stretch your legs?”
The low rumble of a car drew close and Jordyn glanced over her shoulder, noting the red Cadillac that had been following her from Noel’s town square. She could just make out the outline of four bouffant hairdos she recalled spotting in Noel’s town square just minutes earlier. For some reason, the four older women sitting in white rocking chairs had taken a keen interest in her the moment she’d arrived. She’d felt their eyes when she’d gotten out of her truck to stretch her legs, and they’d continued to scrutinize her as she entered and exited a local coffee shop for coffee and cupcakes.
It was understandable the women would be curious about her, but she’d hoped to have more time to prepare before meeting the locals. It was imperative she make a good first impression. She needed to do everything possible to blend into the small community and build a successful business if she wanted Chestnut Ridge to become her permanent home.
And she wanted that. Oh, how she wanted to be a part of charming Noel!
Jordyn stroked Star’s nose gently as the Cadillac pulled to a stop several feet away. The doors opened and four women exited the vehicle, clutching their scarves, hats, and coats snugly against their chins as they approached.
One of the women, thin with shockingly pink curls, whispered to the silver-haired lady next to her, “She’s much taller up close. So much taller than I expected.”
“Carol Belle was right,” the lady wearing glasses said. “She sure has a ton of red hair.”
“It’s gorgeous.” A third lady, wearing a cashmere scarf and sporting an immaculate French manicure, smiled brightly at Jordyn. “She’sgorgeous. And have you ever seen eyes that shade of emerald before? They’re absolutely stunning!”
“Don’t matter if she’s pretty or not.” The fourth woman, a short, stout lady with sharp hazel eyes, moved quickly to the front of the pack and propped her hands on her hips. “What matters is how tough she is.” She stood in front of Jordyn and leaned closer, eyeing her from head to toe along with the three other women. “So, how ’bout it? You tough?”
It was hard to guess exactly what their intentions were and even harder for Jordyn to admit she couldn’t figure them out. During her years of touring the circuit, she’d spent more than her fair share of time in rowdy, smoke-filled bars packed with cowboys oozing ulterior motives, and she could spot trouble a mile away. But the four older women standing in front of her were a complete enigma. One she didn’t particularly want to deal with at the moment.
But . . . these four women were part of Noel—an important part, if their prominent presence in the town square this morning was anything to go by—and it was imperative she make a good first impression.
Jordyn rocked back on her heels and smiled. “I suppose one could say I’m tough.”
The stout woman in front of her, seemingly the leader of the group, nodded slowly. “You do rodeos, right?”
Jordyn’s smile widened. “Yes. I compete as a barrel racer.”
“You’re a barrel racer?” Pink Curls piped up. “Is that your horse?”
The stout woman grunted. “O’ course that’s her horse, Kandy. Who else’s would it be?”
The one wearing glasses nudged her metal frames further up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll remind you, Carol Belle, that Santa don’t like ugly.”
The stout woman, Carol Belle, rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, Kandy. Ask your questions.”
The woman named Kandy elbowed her way in front of Carol Belle, wound a pink curl around her finger and beamed at Jordyn. “What are the rodeos like? You ever get hurt on that horse? How many contests have you won?”
