Page 30 of The Sound of Sleighbells
“I understand. No rush. And thanks again.”
Judd ended the call, filled a mug with coffee, and carried it out onto the porch. The sun was up, the day already warming. But the clouds billowing in the west promised a weather change.
There was no sign of activity from the bunkhouse. But from where he stood, he could see the rear end of the Yamaha where it had been parked next to the truck. This could be his best chance to get the VIN.
In the house, he found a small flashlight, a notepad, and a pen. Then, with a quick look at the bunkhouse, he walked out to the shed.
On most motorcycles, the VIN would be etched into the metal steering neck. Judd switched on the flashlight and quickly found what he was looking for. He cursed. Most of the VIN numbers had been scratched away. There’d be no way to know whether Digger had done the job or someone who’d had the bike before. Either way, the Yamaha was untraceable.
Shoving the flashlight into his pocket, he walked back outside. In the distance, he could see Skip coming along the lane from the direction of Abner’s farm, where Ruth would have brought him. Sending Judd her precious son, even after learning that Digger was here, was an act of pure trust. He would honor that trust, Judd vowed. Nothing was more important than keeping the boy safe.
* * *
Ruth stood on the porch of Abner’s house, watching her son disappear behind the trees. He was growing up fast, gaining height as his limbs lengthened. His voice was beginning to deepen, as well, and she’d caught him inspecting his upper lip in the bathroom mirror, probably looking for the first sign of a whisker.
He was being transformed into a man before her eyes. And every day he was growing to look more like his father.
Like Judd.
“When are you going to tell them, Ruth?” Abner had come out onto the porch. As his question penetrated, her mouth went dry.
“How long have you known?” she managed to ask.
“I’d suspected something of the kind for years. I was around when you were in high school—had a daughter close to your age. There was talk at the dinner table about you and your biker boyfriend. I even saw the two of you together a couple of times, riding around on that motorcycle looking like you were ready to take on the world.
“When Judd got arrested and your parents threw you out of the house, it wasn’t hard to guess the reason why. Then a few years later you came back here married to Ed, with that boy who looked nothing like him. Still, I wasn’t sure—not until Thanksgiving when I saw Skip sitting next to Judd at dinner. It was as plain as day. I can’t believe they haven’t noticed the resemblance.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s because they can’t see themselves side by side, the way I did.”
“I don’t know what to do, Abner.” Ruth’s voice broke. A tear trickled down her cheek. “I know it’s only a matter of time before they discover the truth—especially now that Digger’s come back.”
“Digger?” Abner shook his head. “That boy was always a bad apple. But Judd stood up for him—and paid with five years of his life for saving him. I can’t imagine what he’s doing back here, unless it’s to somehow take advantage of Judd.”
“Digger knows everything,” Ruth said. “He knows about Judd and me, and by now, he will have guessed the rest. All he has to do now is open his mouth.”
“Would that be so bad?” Abner asked. “Judd’s a good man. He could be just the father Skip needs after those rough years with Ed.”
“What if Judd doesn’t want to be a father? And what if Skip hates me for lying to him his whole life? Tom, my first husband, was a fine man. I used to remind Skip of that when things were bad with Ed—that his father had been a good person. Now he learns that his mother can’t be trusted, and his real father was in prison when he was born. What is that going to do to him?”
“You’re shivering,” Abner said. “It’s chilly out here. Come on back inside and get warm.”
He opened the door and followed her into the house, where Janeen and Tammy were playing with the dog, petting it and scratching its ears, giggling as its big pink tongue licked their faces.
Ruth stood back, watching them for a moment. A dog was what the girls really wanted for Christmas. But until they had a home of their own, a pet was out of the question.
She took a packet of wet wipes out of her purse and gave one to each of the girls to clean their hands and faces. “I suppose we’d better be going,” she said. “I need to drop some cookies off to Silas for patching my window, and then I promised to take the girls to the park to see the lights. After that we’ll be looking at ornaments for our tree—even though I can’t buy any till I get paid next week.”
“You need Christmas tree decorations?” Abner asked. “I’ve got boxes full. My late wife loved decorating for Christmas. But in the years since she passed away, I haven’t even had the heart to open a box. Take them all. You’d be doing me a favor.”
“That would be wonderful, Abner!” Ruth turned to her daughters. “How about it? Should we take Abner’s decorations home? We can decorate our tree tonight.”
The girls cheered and clapped their hands.
There were several boxes, none of them heavy. It didn’t take long to load them in the station wagon and buckle the girls into their booster seats.
“Thank you again, Abner.” Ruth hugged him on the porch. “Knowing how precious these ornaments were to your wife, I will handle them with respect and love.”
“Just enjoy them.” Abner returned her hug. “And don’t worry about your boy. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll find his way.”
If only I could be sure of that, Ruth thought.
