Rescuing Christmas

by Nancy Lee Badger

“Dear Lord!” He had spotted Elinor. She stood encased in smoke, just below the roof’s peak.

  A firefighter raced by him, heading in the other direction. “Sean! Elinor is in trouble. Help her!”

  Ignoring Bradley’s plea, Sean disappeared beyond the fire truck. Was he coming back?

  Bradley was running before he knew he had moved. He grabbed a helmet and a pair of fire-retardant gloves off the back of the fire truck. Racing to the side of the house where flames licked from an upstairs window, he called up to her. “Elinor! Are you all right?”

  She didn’t answer, and appeared to be bending over, choking on the smoke. He had to save her, but how? Cinders spewed from the open window, and he tripped over something laying in the grass. “A ladder! Hold on. I’m coming!”

  He slapped the helmet on his head, then pulled on the gloves. Seizing the heavy aluminum ladder, he struggled with its weight, but managed to prop it against the house. It barely reached the roofline where he had last seen Elinor.

  “Elinor! Walk to the ladder!”

  Could she hear him? The smoke was choking him, but he would not leave without her. Elinor must not have spotted the ladder, so he slipped his glasses into his coat pocket and raced up the ladder. The helmet slipped sideways and the gloves were cumbersome, but Elinor’s safety was paramount.

  Reaching the top, heavy smoke drifted into his eyes and throat, and his cough must have caught her attention. The flames from a hole in the roof had been replaced with smoke, so she jumped over the hole and grabbed the top of the tall ladder.

  “What are you doing up here?” she asked.

  She acted less than thrilled to find him on the ladder, waiting to rescue her. “We can talk on the ground. Follow me down, or would you rather I throw you over my shoulder?” Bradley was angry. How dare she talk to him that way?

  When she stood glaring at him, he stepped higher and grabbed her wrist. “Come on!”

  “Fine. You first,” she answered.

  Bradley took one last hard look at her soot-covered face, then climbed down the ladder. At the bottom, he stepped back and tore off the gloves. He pulled the helmet off his head and slapped the gloves into the sweaty center of the protective headgear.

  He had risked his life for her while her boyfriend, Sean, ran the other way. The next time he saw the innkeeper, heads would roll.

  Once her feet hit the ground, she reeled toward him. Her angry scowl took second place to his concern for the scorch marks on her coat. She slammed her helmet to the ground and peeled off her fire gloves. Slipping the fire hood off, she shook her hair loose. Bradley breathed in her womanly fragrance, tainted by the odor of soot. Perspiration dripped down her sooty face, and she rubbed an elbow.

  “You are hurt,” he said, as he bent over and picked up her gear.

  She grabbed it from his hands. “None of your concern, Mr. Wainwright. What in blazes were you thinking? What made you think you could get so close to a dangerous condition? Our firefighters might be made up of many volunteers, but they all spend hours training and practicing. They also wear adequate protective gear.”

  “I heard the explosion, but could no longer see you. Then I spotted whom I hoped was you on the roof, but too close to the flames. After Sean ran past me, I slapped on a helmet, protected my hands with gloves, and picked up the ladder. I saved you!”

  “Of all the nerve…wait. Sean ran past you? Where is he?”

  Andy walked over to them. “I suggest you two move back. The fire is spreading. Oh, and Sean is resting against the far side of the fire truck.”

  “I can’t handle him right now. If the fire is spreading, we need to call in reinforcements. Bradley, get back to your post. Tell the other volunteers this could be a long day, and the guys will be hungry.”

  After having risked his life, all he could do was grind his teeth and watch her walk away. This discussion was not over.

  ***

  Elinor and the festival committee were at odds, again. She was bone-weary, and figured two more hot showers might get the odor of smoke out of her hair. The house had been a total loss and it was all her fault.

  Not really, but that’s how I feel.

  The house was built in the mid-nineteenth century, around eighteen-sixty, she’d heard. Its wooden timbers and weathered siding were tinder waiting for a spark. The old boiler blew, igniting whatever the owners had stored in the dirt-floor cellar. The chimney had spewed burning cinders and black smoke, while flames burned through the walls in several rooms and melted the asphalt roof tiles. Game over in a matter of minutes.

  Another meeting of the Christmas Festival committee was at hand, this time in the fire house kitchen, surrounded by the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon buns. Saying she and the committee were at odds was a whopper of an understatement. The weather had grown a little colder, especially at night, but not a snow cloud was in sight. She just couldn’t perceive of success without snow and a frozen lake, which is exactly what she told the others assembled members. “We should cancel the Christmas Festival, and that’s that.”

  “Ellie, you cannot do this. The fire department desperately needs that rescue toboggan to pull behind a snow machine,” Mac said.

  “And what about getting a new stove? We could do our own baking, but the oven doesn’t work,” Julia added.

  “You know the department needs lots of new equipment that the town council could not fit in its budget this year,” Henry added.

  “That nice Mr. Wainwright said… oops!” Elvira’s smile turned to embarrassment. Her cheeks were redder than when she and Bradley had caught her and Roy Jackson in a kiss.

  Ellie stepped closer to where she sat. Elvira had dropped her mug of tea back onto the fire house’s kitchen table and wouldn’t look straight at her. “Elvira? What’s this about Mr. Wainwright?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just meant he was saying he hoped the festival would go on as planned.”

  “That’s silly, since he plans to leave town any minute.”

  Elvira shrugged.

  Julia said, “Well, he did a great job at that recent house fire. My bursitis was acting up and I sure didn’t look forward to lugging that pot of tomato soup to the truck and back.”

  “That’s right,” Elvira broke in, “he was wonderful, especially when he saved your life. We all saw him race over, shove that old ladder into place, and climb up to the top.” The room erupted in chatter.

  Ellie’s cheeks heated and she shook her head. “What he did was stupid. He isn’t trained, and he wasn’t wearing protective gear.”

  “I heard he put on a helmet and fire gloves,” Julia added.

  Ellie raised her hands. “I appreciated his help, I guess, but—”

  “Did you tell him that?” Julia wiggled her gray eyebrows. “Sarah Jane sure did. Every time I see him at the bookstore, she’s fawning all over him, and he’s smiling right back at her. She might be the reason he’s still in town.”

  As the women chattered about the newest subject—Bradley and her sister—Ellie stormed out of the fire house. She no longer worked a regular shift, so she had planned to listen to her pager, while she spent a little time with Sarah Jane. It was her job to assist at calls where needed, while hoping the two captains could take over minor problems, now that they both had returned from their training in North Conway. All she saw was another lonely afternoon and evening.

  The story of my life.

  The Christmas Festival was becoming a thorn in her side. Canceling it, or postponing it until spring, made the most sense, but the committee voiced their objections along with several added ideas to please the attendees. Some sounded like fun.

  They could do a fishing pond, but add ice cubes and steaming dry ice to the small kiddie pool where the kids tried to ‘catch’ plastic fish with a magnetized hook. They would call it ice fishing. She liked the idea of letting kids build igloos using plastic milk jugs, but it would take hundreds of empty jugs, and time was short. Throwing darts at cardboard snowmen, to see who coul
d hit their coal eyes or carrot noses, sounded disrespectful, but it could easily be set up.

  “Pin the tail on the reindeer is self-explanatory,” several auxiliary members said. The sand art activity for kids sounded messy, but the art teacher at the high school did express interest in helping at the festival.

  All the suggestions were helpful, but skating on the pond and riding in a sleigh had been two things she looked forward to, even if she had to enjoy both all alone. An image of Bradley rose up, shocking her with its intensity. She wished he could share those simple pleasures with her.

  Yikes! The committee members all thought Bradley wanted to stay in town awhile longer than necessary, possibly because of Sarah Jane. Was she the reason he was lingering in Snowflake Valley? Was her sister turning her feelings away from Greg and honing in on Bradley?

  Stepping out of the fire house, she bristled, as her thoughts darkened. Where her baby sister was concerned, she was protective. Sarah Jane drew men like bees to a flower. She was light where Ellie was dark and petite and feminine, where Ellie was tall and mannish. As a male magnet, her baby sister had made a few mistakes and her heart had been broken too many times to count.

  Sarah Jane’s business was her love and her life, now, and Ellie had hoped that buying and opening the bookstore and café had given Sarah Jane the incentive to make her life better. Did she understand she no longer needed a man to make her feel whole? Ellie knew, years ago that finding her own pleasures meant working at a profession she loved. Men and romantic relationships came second.

  Sean Peabody proved there certainly was wisdom in waiting for the right person. He had apologized for not knowing that the ladder had fallen. The explosion had rattled him so badly, he ran to the safety of the fire truck. Could she blame him? Like Sean, many of the crew were volunteers. They had real full-time jobs. Sean was an innkeeper. She had a feeling he had joined the department to get close to her. Too bad she hadn’t realized it before he’d placed her life in jeopardy. She headed toward Main Street on foot.

  Several folks stopped to commiserate with her about the fire that had claimed a family’s entire farmhouse. They had saved the barn and its horse, but it was little consolation for the elderly owner. A fundraiser potluck supper was planned for tomorrow night, another event that would take time and effort away from the excitement of the Christmas Festival. There was little time left to work on the festival, if it still went on.

  If the committee gets their way, it will.

  Continuing on foot, she neared the bookstore and couldn’t help but notice that Bradley walked through the door well ahead of her. She hesitated, but this was a free country. They had the perfect right to occupy the same premises at the same time. They weren’t children having a tantrum. She’d said her piece. He might have been injured, or worse, in trying to scale the ladder and rescue her. Although, having someone care enough to risk their life? How could she not feel special?

  As she opened the door and stepped over the threshold, her gaze zeroed in on Bradley’s arms wrapped tightly around Sarah Jane. When their lips touched, Ellie’s mouth opened in a silent scream. With anger erupting in her chest, she turned on her heel, slamming the door on her way out.

  ***

  “Was that Elinor?” Bradley asked. The slamming door was a good excuse to separate himself from a teary Sarah Jane. She was overcome with emotion again. This time, she had kissed him. Usually, he was the one initiating kissing, but all he could think of were Elinor’s lips.

  She wiped tears from her rosy cheeks and laughed. “Probably. Ellie likes to take out her aggression on doors. Did it all the time we were growing up. I believe she just came from a meeting with the festival committee. Wish I’d been a fly on that wall.”

  “Why? Do you think they canceled the festival?” If so, he guessed his ideas had not been met with approval.

  “No, I’m sure she lost her bid to cancel or postpone the event. This town needs this festival, especially now. With this horrid weather, many business owners are struggling. Without snow, we need a fresh outlook, and the festival can bring in people from miles around. Even I will have trouble making my rent, this month. I apologize for kissing you. I am so torn, I just needed to feel, you know?”

  He understood her too well, but he was concerned at how quickly Elinor had vanished. Sarah Jane’s tears started again, and Bradley was at a loss as to how to help her. Greg Peabody should be here, cradling her in his arms.

  Not me.

  So, he sat her down at the table by the window that had become his second home. Since the fire, and Sean’s despicable actions, he vowed to spend the least amount of time at the inn. He hadn’t approached the innkeeper directly, mainly because it was Elinor’s job to chastise her crew. If he talked to the cowardly innkeeper, she would see it as usurping her power, and it might give Sean a reason to kick him out of the inn. Since the Peabody Inn was the only B&B within walking distance of town, he would keep his thoughts to himself, for now.

  “Please do not cry, Sarah Jane. Believe me when I say we should pray that the festival will go on as planned, and the people and their money will flock to town. Did I not share that I sent up a special request to Santa for snow?”

  After wiping her eyes and nose with the tissue she’d pulled from her sleeve, Sarah Jane smiled up at him. She was tiny, and so unlike her beautiful sister. Elinor’s image filled his head again, which was becoming something of a problem. He could not keep the smile from his face, either. Movement caught his eye, and they both turned to see several ladies from the auxiliary pointing at them and clapping.

  Sarah Jane giggled. “Looks like they think we’re an item. “

  “Great. That will be around town in minutes.”

  “As lovely as that might be, I have my eye on someone quite different. I’ll bring your coffee and lunch right over.” She stood and disappeared behind the counter.

  Bradley recalled the day he had met Sarah Jane. She had looked in love, when he mentioned Greg Peabody, the tree farmer. “I wonder if Greg knows yet.”

  Opening his laptop, he checked his emails. Mona was still concerned about his welfare, ‘stuck in the boonies’ as she called Snowflake Valley. He had her contact the redhead waiting for him in Montreal, and cancel their meeting. He was no longer interested in working with her, nor did she stir any interest in having her share his bed. Someone else had garnered all his attention, but he didn’t tell his secretary anything about that. He had even canceled the rental vehicle. He would call the agency the moment he was ready to leave, and they promised another car would be sent.

  Should he leave sooner than later? Elinor was mad at him for rescuing her. Actually, she was upset that he’d endangered his own life. Did that mean she cared? Could they reconcile enough to have a few erotic nights together? Was that all he wanted? He was confused. As a business owner of a New York City company, this was not like him.

  His life in the city seemed the best of the best. He lived in a huge steel and concrete condo that did little to make him feel at home. He worked in a well-appointed office in a New York City high-rise, that he used to enjoy. He missed Mona simply because she was a good friend and more than an employee.

  However, loneliness could not be solved with more work, more money, and more companies. He owned a well-managed company, and continued to think about stepping down, and letting it run like the well-oiled machine he had made it into, after his father’s death. He deserved to relax and smell the pine trees. He was doing that, here in Snowflake Valley.

  “Mona is always on me to take more time off.”

  “Talking to yourself, Wainwright?”

  Sean Peabody stood too close, but Bradley refused to acknowledge the man’s insensitive attitude. Bradley was working. Couldn’t he tell?

  “I am working. Just closed a video chat. Did you need something?” He casually removed his reading glasses, and set them on the table beside his laptop. Raising his gaze, the look on Sean’s face could freeze lava.

  �
��She hates me.”

  Bradley looked around the store. Sarah Jane’s eyes were wide, as if she could tell their conversation was not a friendly one. Bradley closed his laptop and stood. “Which woman in Snowflake Valley hates you today?”

  Sean’s hands closed into fists at his sides, and his eyes widened. Bradley knew exactly who had no love for Sean Peabody, but he wanted to see the man’s reaction.

  “You know exactly who I mean, and you’re the reason she keeps turning me down.”

  As soon as Sean’s right fist came up, and he drew his arm back to strike, Bradley shoved the table into his groin, and Sean dropped to the floor like a stone.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Officer Rudy Jackson headed toward them from where he must have been browsing the bookshelves.

  This is not good.

  Chapter 10

  Bradley thought quick on his feet to explain why Sean was on the bookstore’s floor. “I am sorry you had to see that, Officer Jackson. He, ah, tripped. Isn’t that right, Sean?”

  The groaning innkeeper struggled to his feet, one hand cupping his groin. His face was beet-red and he was breathing hard. Anger rolled off him in waves and Bradley worried he would accuse him of assault.

  “Nothing to see, Rudy,” Sean gasped, “I tripped coming over to see one of my inn’s guests. I was trying to find out why he keeps missing meals.”

  With the situation calmer now, Sarah Jane walked over and set Bradley’s lunch next to his laptop. She gave him a saucy smile, then turned to Rudy. “Your afternoon snack order is ready.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” Rudy turned back to the men. “I have an idea why he takes his meals here, Sean, but if there’s no problem, I’ll see you two later.”

  Once the officer had exited the store, Bradley waited for Sean to say some unkind words about him, or Elinor. He did not have long to wait.

  “Elinor is mine. She’ll come around once your ugly face leaves town. And don’t be getting any ideas about Sarah Jane. She belongs to my brother.”