Just as he had promised, the guest room was clean and neat, with twin beds separated by a night table and an oval rug in between. The walls were pale blue and the curtains were off-white linen with blue ticking stripes. Painting the room had been one of the last projects his wife had taken on, just before she got sick. Claire, who had been full of energy up until then, loved to do work around the house, even painting and refinishing furniture.
The bedroom was a far cry from the mess downstairs, and Jack could tell Julie was relieved.
He quickly retrieved some linens and blankets from the hall closet and began to make up the beds. Julie gently laid her daughter down on one bed and helped him with the other. When the first was done, she moved her daughter over and they set to work again. Their shoulders brushed for a moment as they both tugged cases over pillows. Jack forced himself not to look at her.
She quickly stepped back. “That’s fine. I can finish up. You’ve done enough. Really.”
He nodded and stepped back toward the door. “Can I get you anything from your car? I have to go out again anyway . . . to check the trash. Animals.”
His explanation wasn’t entirely true. Weeks had gone by without him worrying about raccoons. Lately, he would hear the sound of them raiding his garbage in the middle of the night, and all he felt was weary resignation. Fine, let them have their raccoon smorgasbord. But he suspected Julie did need some items from her luggage. All women did. And it was still snowing out there.
Julie stood up from where she had been working on the bed and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “If you’re going out anyway, I could use the blue duffel bag in the backseat. My car is about halfway down the drive. It’s unlocked.”
“Okay, I’ll get it for you.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Jack. You’ve been very kind.”
He shook off her thanks. At least she hadn’t called him sir or Mr. Sawyer again.
“I’ll leave the bag at the top of the stairs. If there’s anything else, let me know.”
He felt her watching him. He walked out of the room and down the stairs, then headed outside. He stood on the porch a moment and took a long, deep breath. The air was frigid. He felt the sharp cold travel deep in his lungs. Then felt his head slowly clear.
The snow was falling heavily now. It was definitely not just the flurry the weather report predicted. There would be a few inches on the ground by the morning. Jack strode down the drive that led to the road and looked for Julie’s car. He wore only a flannel shirt and a down vest, but felt oblivious to the cold and snow. He hardly noticed it, his thoughts still spinning.
He wasn’t used to being around a woman. That’s all it was.
She and the girl would be gone in the morning, as soon as the tow trucks were running. So no reason to go off the deep end, pal, he coached himself.
But the woman and her child sure put a surprise twist in his evening. He had to admit that much.
“SO HOW DO YOU LIKE OUR TREE THIS YEAR, MRS. CLAUS? DOES IT meet with your approval?”
Sam and Jessica sat close together on the couch in the living room, their arms around each other. The tree was trimmed, the hot cocoa and cookies gobbled up completely. The boys had long gone to bed, and now the only lights left on in the entire house were the banked embers in the fireplace and the tiny bulbs hidden in the branches of pine.
“I think it’s the prettiest we’ve ever had.”
He laughed quietly. “You always say that, Jess.”
She laughed, too, and settled her cheek against his chest again. “Well, why even ask me then if you know what I’m going to say?”
He kissed the top of her head. “Because I love to tease you.”
“I know that,” she murmured. She sighed and was silent a moment, content just to sit quietly, sharing this special time with her husband. “Jack Sawyer still sells the best trees. But I felt sorry for him. He seemed so sad and lonely out there. . . . He looked awful,” she added. “I hardly recognized him.”
“I know what you mean. Losing his wife has been hard on him.”
“Where’s his son? I didn’t want to ask. It seemed too personal.”
“I’m not sure. I think David left town a few months after Claire died. That must have been hard on Jack, too.”
Jessica sighed. “I hope our boys don’t move far away from us when they grow up. I know they each have to go out on their own, but I don’t want them too far away. Especially at the holidays.”
Sam squeezed her closer. “We have years to worry about that yet, Jess. Darrell just started high school.”
“I know, but time goes by so quickly. Even faster as you get older. Don’t you get that feeling sometimes? I feel as if we just got married and moved into this house. It’s all gone by in the blink of an eye.”
“I know what you mean. Maybe that’s because we’re happy. We have to count our blessings. Let’s try to relax and make the most of the holidays this year. And the time we have left with the kids still growing up. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we’ll have another baby soon.”
He peered down at her. Jessica avoided his glance. She was hoping she would get pregnant this year. She knew Sam was, too, but she didn’t like to talk too much about it.
“We are very blessed,” she said carefully. “It seems wrong to ask for more. There are so many people facing the holidays who hardly have anything to feel happy or grateful about.”
Sam nodded, not saying anything. Then he pulled her closer and they kissed. Her marriage and loving Sam were at the top of her list of blessings. It didn’t seem so long ago that she had met Sam and fallen head over heels for him, though at the time she was sure their romance would never work out. They were opposites in so many ways. At least, on the surface. But defying probability—and her mother’s disapproval—they were married. Sam had changed her life and all her plans. Their life together had turned out to be much more wonderful and fulfilling than anything she had ever imagined.
They were so lucky, Jessica thought as she held her husband close. It was times like this when she had to remind herself that her worries were so trivial. Sam was better at that. He helped her keep life in perspective, to focus on the good and cultivate a thankful heart. She had to remember that. Especially at the holidays.
CHAPTER TWO
JESSICA WOKE SLOWLY, FEELING CONFUSED. SHE STARED INTO the darkness. She heard Sam breathing deeply beside her, then some other sound.
The smoke alarm. Shrieking over and over.
Could it possibly be?
She sniffed the air. She smelled a faint whiff of smoke. They’d had a fire in the fireplace tonight. Would that set it off?
She shook Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, wake up. The smoke alarm.”
Sam rolled on to his back and stared at her. Even in the darkness she could see his expression change swiftly.
He bolted upright then practically leaped out of bed, his eyes wide. “Quick, grab some shoes. I’ll get Darrell, you get Tyler. Meet me at the head of the stairs.”
Sam was up and out of bed. She saw him fumbling on the nightstand, grabbing his cell phone, then he scooped up a pair of sneakers as he dashed down the hall.
Jessica grabbed her robe and slippers but didn’t stop to put them on. She ran into Tyler’s room and flipped on the lights, then ran to his bed. He squinted at her, one arm raised against the sudden burst of light.
“What’d you do that for?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Get up, honey. Get up now.” She tried her best not to scare him but couldn’t keep the urgent note from her voice.
On the floor by his bedside, she found a pair of sneakers and a sweatshirt. She tugged him up, nearly pulling him out of the bed by his arm.
“You have to get up, Tyler. We have to go. Right now!” She tried not to shout or sound hysterical. But it was impossible. She could smell the smoke clearly now. It was no fluke from the fireplace ashes.
“Mommy, what’s the matter?” Tyler stared at her, his voice shaky and confused as
he stumbled out of the room.
“We have to get out of the house. Just stay with me. Don’t let go of my hand.” She put him in front of her, pushing him down the hallway toward the stairs.
“Come on! Come on, you two!” Sam shouted. He stood at the top of the staircase with Darrell. “I think we can still get out the front door. Let’s go!”
They descended the stairway in single file, walking as quickly as they could without bumping into one another. She heard Sam on his cell phone. He had called 911 and was talking to the operator. Tyler was scared. He cried softly, but thankfully kept moving.
“—Yes, on Beach Road. Number six-oh-nine. You can’t see the house from the road,” Sam said. “There’s a mailbox at the bottom of the drive. It says Morgan. . . .”
The smoke grew thicker, absorbing the light. The smell was nearly overpowering. Jessica heard Darrell coughing and then Tyler. Tyler paused on the stairs and she pushed him forward.
“Don’t stop. Just keep going.”
She heard Sam cough but could hardly see the outline of his body now. “Quick, everyone. To the front door then run down to the end of the drive and wait for me. Try to cover your mouth with something—your bathrobe or pajamas.”
Sam ran ahead and opened the door. Jessica saw Darrell fly through the smoke, then Tyler followed. She rushed past Sam, using the edge of her robe to cover her mouth. Her eyes stung and she could hardly breathe as she pushed out of the house into the cold air.
She heard the door slam then felt Sam grab her arm. Together, they ran across the snowy lawn. Her bare feet froze instantly. But she hardly felt it. She saw the boys and felt a great relief in her heart. They had all made it out. Thank God.
Tyler was shivering and crying. Darrell had his arm around his little brother’s shoulder. Jessica ran to them. Tyler pointed to the house, unable to speak.
Jessica turned. The house was glowing, the windows on the first floor lit by an eerie yellow light. Smoke poured out of the back windows and chimney. A window at the back of the house burst. The sound of splintering glass and crackling flames shooting out made Jessica jump back and reach for her children.
“Oh, dear Lord . . .”
“Daddy, did you let Reilly out? He was right behind me,” Darrell said. A note of alarm peaked in his voice. “I don’t see him. . . .”
Sam closed his eyes slowly, and Jessica knew that in the urgency of saving his sons, he had forgotten the dog.
Darrell stared at Sam for a long moment. Then he turned and raced toward the house, kicking up snow with every flying step.
Jessica screamed, “Darrell, no! Sam! Get him! He’s going back inside!”
Darrell dashed toward the house at full speed. Sam chased after him. Jessica saw his feet slip in the snow and knew that Darrell would make it to the porch before his father could catch up.
“Darrell, stop!” Sam’s voice was hoarse, anguished. “You stop right now! Don’t you dare go in there. . . .”
Jessica watched Darrell pull the front door open. A cloud of black smoke poured out as he rushed inside and disappeared instantly.
Sam took the porch steps two at a time and ran into the burning house right behind him.
“No! Stop!” Jessica covered her mouth with her hand. Beside her, Tyler sobbed. Jessica knelt down and put her arms around him. She buried her face in his shoulder for a moment, not daring to see if Sam and Darrell had come out.
“Dear God . . . please. Please let them come out of that house right now. Please God. . . . I’ll never ask for another thing in my life. I promise.”
Jessica stared at the house, blinking back tears, the simple, heartfelt prayer running in a silent loop through her mind.
“Mommy?”
“Shhh . . . just a minute, Ty. Just a minute . . .”
She patted her little boy’s shoulder and bit down on her lip, her gaze fixed on the burning house. She could hear sirens in the distance, coming closer. But the fire was growing even faster, the smoke dense and black. More windows had burst on the first floor, and flames seemed to leap out from all sides.
“Darrell! Sam!” She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Come out! Please! Come out now!” she shouted.
Tyler turned and buried his face against her leg.
Finally, she saw them. Not at the front door where her gaze had been fixed, but coming around the side of the house.
She nearly collapsed with relief at the sight. “Look Tyler, they’re okay . . . and they have Reilly.”
Sam walked with his arm around Darrell’s shoulder. Darrell carried the dog in his arms. Reilly looked limp. Jessica wondered if the poor dog had made it after all.
Sam and Darrell’s faces and pajamas were covered with black soot. Darrell was coughing loudly but wouldn’t give Sam the dog.
“Thank God!” Jessica ran to them, her bare feet slipping in the snow. She put her hands on Darrell’s shoulders and stared at him, suddenly conscious that he was now almost as tall as she was. She wanted to give him the scolding of a lifetime for disobeying her. All she could do was cry.
Darrell stood with his head hanging down, staring at Reilly. “He can’t breathe, Mom. He needs oxygen.”
Sam put his hand on Darrell’s shoulder. “The fire department is here. Don’t worry. They’ll take care of him.”
The fire trucks had arrived. Jessica turned to see two large red trucks pull up and roll right past them. They parked close to the house, and firefighters in long black coats, hats, and boots, jumped out from all sides.
They began unfastening the ladders and pulling out hoses. Jessica recognized Fire Chief Rhinehardt.
“Everyone out of the house?” he asked, hurrying toward them.
Sam nodded. “Yes, we’re all here. I think my son inhaled too much smoke.” He glanced back at Darrell, who sat in the snow, cradling Reilly in his lap and coughing harshly. “And the dog, too. He can’t breathe.”
“We’ll get them some oxygen right away.” Rhinehardt turned to the house. “Looks like the fire started around back. We’ll pull the pumper over and start there,” he said, starting back to his crew. “It’s moving fast. I can see it’s already reached the second floor. You folks were lucky.”
Sam sighed. He looked over at Jessica, who stood a little distance away with the boys. “Yes . . . we were. Very lucky.”
An ambulance pulled up and parked behind the fire trucks. Two EMTs climbed out and rushed over to them. “How are you doing? Anyone injured?” one of the workers asked.
Jessica shook her head. “My son’s having trouble breathing. He inhaled a lot of smoke.”
The EMT walked over to Darrell and crouched down beside him. “How are you doing, son?”
Darrell tried to speak but could only cough in answer.
“Let’s get you in the ambulance and take a look at you.”
“My dog needs help, too,” Darrell managed.
“I can give some oxygen to your dog. Sure thing.” He gently stroked the dog’s head. “What’s his name?”
“Reilly.” Darrell rubbed his hand over his eyes. Jessica rested her hand on his shoulder. She could see he had been crying.
“Don’t worry. We’ll help Reilly. Just come with me.”
The other EMT had handed Jessica blankets, and she wrapped them around herself and Tyler then followed Darrell to the ambulance. She sat inside the ambulance with her younger son while Darrell was given oxygen. The med tech fixed a small mask over Reilly’s muzzle and carefully administered some to him, too.
Darrell let the dog lie on the stretcher while he sat on a narrow bench on the side of the vehicle and stroked the dog’s head. The sight made Jessica start crying all over again.
She turned her head and saw Sam standing by one of the trucks, talking to a firefighter. The fire now completely consumed the house, top and bottom. A light wind blew most of the smoke away from the front of the house where they stood. But the black clouds still hung in the air, the soot raining
down from the sky, coating the newly fallen snow. The snow in the front yard had been trod to mud by all the firefighters rushing about.
Jessica could hardly stand to look at their house burning, but she couldn’t take her gaze away from it. The crackling sound as the fire consumed the wooden structure, the firefighters shouting as they battled the blaze. From time to time, she heard more windows explode or something crash inside the building. Perhaps it was the floor caving in, she thought, or walls falling down.
It was a nightmare. One she couldn’t wake up from. Everything she owned, everything she needed. Heirlooms from her family and Sam’s, all their records and photos and books. All her jewelry. All the boys’ clothes and toys and silly little things she had saved since they were small—their school art projects, Tyler’s teething ring, and Darrell’s Little League awards. Everything that was of any value to her or her family was in that house. Burning before her very eyes. Going up in smoke.
How could this be happening?
It seemed impossible.
She watched a fireman standing at the top of a ladder swing a long ax and hack a hole in the roof. Then others on the ground directed the spray of water from the hose into the attic.
Even though the house was already filled with flames and smoke, purposely breaking through the roof somehow seemed such a violation. It made the entire effort to stop the fire seem so . . . hopeless.
Sam walked back to the ambulance and looked up at her. “How are you doing, Jess?”
“We’re doing okay,” she replied, though she hardly felt that way.
He jumped up and sat next to her then put his arm around her shoulder. “They’ve called Essex for backup. Another pumper and crew should be here soon.”
Soon would be too late, Jessica thought. It was already too late.
“How’s Darrell?” he asked.
Jessica glanced back at the boys. “Better. He’s stopped coughing. I’m not so sure about Reilly. Thank God, you two came out alive. I lost years off my life waiting for you.”
“It was a miracle to get out the first time. I guess we have a lot to be grateful for.”
A Christmas Star Page 3
