Chapter Six
“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 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.