Capturing Christmas

by Shanna Hatfield

  “I don’t hate Ransom. I just can’t stand to be around him.” Kash swallowed hard at the moisture filling his dad’s eyes. The old man turned away and strode out of the room.

  No longer hungry, Kash put the leftover food in the refrigerator, loaded the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen.

  When he finished, he filled a glass with water and carried it upstairs, along with Celia’s phone.

  Quietly opening her door, he found her sleeping soundly, so he left the water and phone on the nightstand next to the bed.

  He returned downstairs and rummaged around in a junk drawer until he found an old nightlight Barb used to plug in for him when he was younger. He took it back up to Celia’s room and plugged it into an outlet in the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack. If Celia awoke during the night, at least she could easily find the bathroom, since she’d no doubt be disoriented, waking up in a strange room.

  Thoughts of her possible confusion sent him down the hall to his bedroom. He grabbed a notepad from his nightstand and jotted a quick message then took it to the guest room. Uncertain of the best place to leave the note, he set it on the bathroom counter.

  While he was there, he rinsed the washcloth and wiped her face and neck again before heading back downstairs.

  A football game blared on the television in the family room. Kash wasn’t in the mood to watch it. Besides, his dad didn’t want to discuss the whole mess with Ransom any more than he did. It was too cold, dark, and stormy to do anything outside, so Kash retreated to the big office and sat down at the desk.

  He had plenty of paperwork to keep his hands and mind busy for several days.

  Two hours later, he stretched his back and remembered he’d left his suitcase full of dirty clothes sitting in the front entry.

  He walked down the hall to the front door where he picked up both his and Celia’s suitcases, carrying them to the laundry room off the kitchen.

  She’d mentioned something Saturday morning about running out of clean clothes and it being a good thing she would head home the next day.

  From that comment, he assumed, she hadn’t done any laundry while she was in Las Vegas. He certainly hadn’t had time to do any.

  He opened his suitcase and dumped all his dirty clothes in a heap on the laundry room floor. Expertly sorting out his jeans, shirts, socks and briefs, he sprayed Barb’s special manure remover on the jeans and shirts he’d worn around his stock and left everything in neat piles.

  With a fortifying breath, he opened Celia’s suitcase. The alluring aroma of her fragrance enveloped him and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.

  He lacked the ability to fathom how something could smell so good while simultaneously causing his brain to short circuit.

  It was easy to sort out the clean clothes from the dirty in her suitcase. A sweatshirt and one pair of socks were neatly tucked into a big zippered pocket while the rest of the clothes were rolled into a garbage bag.

  Tipping it upside down, he watched her clothes tumble out on the floor. He recognized the pair of jeans with the bling on the rear pockets that caused his eyes to remain glued to her cute posterior every time she turned her back to him. There was the dark green blouse she’d worn that made her green eyes appear even bigger and put him in mind of Christmas holly. Kash carefully picked it up and read the tag, glad to see it was machine washable.

  Although his dad and Ransom thought everything went into the washing machine at once, Kash had listened to Barb’s detailed lessons about how to do laundry.

  While he sorted through Celia’s clothes, he tried not to stare at the feminine unmentionables he held in his hands before dropping them into the washing machine. A bit of silky red fabric trimmed in lace made his mouth go dry and he forced himself to swallow as he hastily added it to the load. He added soap then realized he’d mixed lights and darks together. Dismayed, he took everything out and started all over again.

  By the time he finished, a fine sheen of perspiration dotted his forehead and his hands trembled slightly. A vision of coming home from a long, hard day and finding Celia in the kitchen wearing one of the provocative little items he’d just handled caused his gut to clench into a tight knot.

  He slammed the lid on the washing machine and shut the laundry room door, returning to the kitchen.

  After gulping a full glass of cold water, he stepped over to the back door and opened it. In hopes it would cool him down, he stuck his head outside. Right now, he was convinced his temperature had to be ten degrees higher than Celia’s.

  As he looked outside, he was glad to see the snowfall had lessened and the wind had ceased howling although it still blew snow around in drifts.

  Silently closing the door, Kash knew it would be awhile before sleep would claim him. Impossible to focus on his paperwork, he had no interest in watching television.

  He trudged upstairs and sat in the overstuffed chair across the room from the bed where Celia slept.

  In the darkness, he leaned back in the chair and relaxed, listening to the steady sound of her breathing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Celia awakened to a dark room and a throat so sore she could barely swallow. Slowly sitting up in bed, she tried to remember what had happened, where she was.

  A sliver of light caught her attention across the room so she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shuffled toward it.

  Relieved to see it was a bathroom, she flicked on the overhead light and made use of the facilities. She wondered if someone had left the toilet seat in the freezer as some kind of sick joke. A block of ice couldn’t have felt any worse against her feverish skin.

  Quickly washing her hands, she looked into the mirror and stared at her flushed face, tangled hair, and the dark burgundy-colored T-shirt she wore that hung down to mid-thigh. A Sun Devils logo emblazoned across the chest in faded gold print.

  Panic welled within her as she realized she stood in an unfamiliar bathroom in a shirt she’d never seen that smelled like Kash Kressley. Before she experienced a complete meltdown, she noticed a piece of paper on the counter.

  She lifted the note:

  Celia,

  Don’t freak out! Strangers or aliens have not abducted you.

  You’re at the Rockin’ K Ranch in our guest room. My dad’s here and your folks know where to find you.

  In case you don’t remember, your truck broke down and you’re sick. If you need anything, my bedroom is the third door down the hall.

  Rest well,

  Kash

  Her lips turned up in a smile as she glanced in the mirror at the oversized shirt. Kash’s shirt.

  Celia turned her nose against the soft fabric covering her shoulder and breathed deeply. The action created a spasm of racking coughs. She clutched her chest with one hand while holding herself upright by clasping the edge of the counter with the other.

  A tap on the door would have made her shriek if she could have forced a sound out of her aching throat.

  “Celia?” Kash asked, sounding worried. “Can I get you anything?”

  Maintaining her hold on the counter, she reached over and opened the door. As she shook her head, her eyes watered.

  Kash took one look at her and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her back to the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp and held a glass of water out to her. She took a few sips and collapsed against the pillows.

  “Thank you.” A scratchy whisper replaced her normal tone of voice.

  Gently sitting beside her, he brushed the hair away from her face.

  “Would you like a cup of hot tea? Some broth? Orange juice?” Kash wanted to do something, anything to make her feel better.

  Despite his plan to keep watch over her, he’d fallen asleep in the chair. He hadn’t heard her get up, but her painful coughing brought him wide awake.

  It made his chest ache listening to her.

  In response to his questions, she shook her head. He started to stand, but she clasped his hand between both of
hers. “Stay?”

  “As long as you like,” he said, and flicked off the bedside lamp. Tenderly, he continued stroking her forehead. The hold on his hand relaxed and her breathing evened out.

  Assured she slept, he stood and tucked her hand back under the covers. After he flicked off the overhead light in the bathroom, he went back downstairs, remembering the laundry he’d started earlier. Another load of her delicates went into the washing machine, making him glad he handled them under the cover of night, where his dad and brother couldn’t tease him.

  In the kitchen, he set out the makings for tea, along with a jar of honey, remembering how Barb used to make it for him when he had a sore throat. The next time Celia awoke, he’d make her a cup. As soon as daylight hit, he’d send someone into town to get her some cough medicine.

  For now, though, he’d rest. Kash went up to his bedroom, took a shower, dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of lounge pants then returned to Celia’s room.

  The next time she awoke, sunlight framed the edges of the drapes. She vaguely recalled being at the Rockin’ K Ranch as she got out of bed and visited the bathroom.

  On her way back to the bed, she noticed Kash asleep in a chair near the window with his feet propped up on an ottoman. A quilt covered his legs and his cheek rested against his upraised hand. Lest she awaken him, she quietly made her way back to the bed and slid down between the soft sheets with a sigh.

  Voices awakened her several hours later. She opened her eyes to see both Kash and Frank looking down at her.

  “How are you feeling?” Frank asked as Kash placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

  “She’s still hot, but not burning up like last night.” Kash smiled at her. “Can you talk, Celia?”

  Carefully inching back in the bed until she sat up, she tried to clear her throat, but it made her wince in pain. Her lips formed the word “no” even though no sound came out of her.

  “It’s okay, honey.” Frank reached down and squeezed her hand. “I’m gonna run into town and get some supplies. Is there anything you need?”

  Celia shook her head and smiled at the kind man.

  Frank moved toward the door while Kash held a steaming cup of tea out to her. Grateful, she took it from his hand and held it with both of hers, sipping the hot, sweet beverage.

  Kash glanced back at his dad. “I can send one of the guys into town if you’d rather not go, Dad.”

  “No, I have a few errands to run anyway. I’ve got the list.” Frank patted his shirt pocket. “I might even bring home something for lunch. Any requests?”

  Both men glanced at Celia but she shook her head.

  “All right. I’ll be back by noon,” Frank said and sauntered out the door.

  Although Kash’s gaze settled on her, Celia focused her attention on the cup in her hands. The hot tea tasted good and soothed her aching throat.

  “Can I get you anything else, Celia? Would you like some toast? I can…”

  She reached out with one hand and squeezed his arm, shaking her head. “I’m fine,” she mouthed.

  Nervous, he backed toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone for now. Your suitcase is over there, on the bench.” He pointed to a spot by a white dresser. “I washed your jeans and shirts, and stuff.” Thoughts of the “stuff” made heat burn up his neck and ears, turning them bright red. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”

  Kash spun around and left the room.

  Celia wondered what had made him run off like a whipped pup. As red as his neck turned, he looked like he’d been sunburned.

  She sipped her tea and let her gaze travel around the room. The pale drapes were pulled back and sunlight filtered in through sheer curtains. From her spot in the big king-sized bed, she glimpsed glistening snow outside the window.

  The room was cheery with soft yellow paint on the walls and white furniture. An overstuffed white chair and ottoman sat in the corner of the room and a white and cream striped duvet covered the bed.

  A few prints on the walls depicted western landscapes and a white-washed metal star hung near the bathroom door. Tastefully decorated, Celia assumed the housekeeper had taken charge of the room’s furnishings.

  Comfortable, she settled back against the fluffy pillows and finished her tea. By then, her eyelids were heavy. She set aside the cup, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

  The next time she opened her eyes, her stomach felt hollow. A glance at the clock on the nightstand left her in shock that she’d slept until one in the afternoon.

  On her way to the bathroom, she decided a hot shower might help her feel better. She opened her suitcase and her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the stacks of neatly folded clothes.

  Tucked beneath her tops, jeans, and pajamas, she found her underwear. Rather than a tidy arrangement, it appeared to have been dumped into the suitcase with haste. A picture of Kash taking it out of the dryer, desperate to get it out of sight before someone caught him handling her unmentionables, filled her head.

  Embarrassment seared her cheeks at the thought of him washing her clothes, but he’d already done it and she was thankful to have something clean to wear.

  Swiftly picking out the clothes she wanted, she carried them into the bathroom along with her cosmetic bag. After brushing her teeth, she gathered her hair on top of head, turned on the shower, and let steam fill the bathroom. Under the spray just long enough to get wet, Celia began coughing so harshly, she braced herself on the shower wall to hold herself up.

  The more she coughed, the woozier she grew until she staggered out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. On the verge of passing out, she wobbled back to the bed, collapsed on it, and yanked the covers up. She closed her eyes, hoping the world would stop spinning.

  Kash tapped on the door before he stepped inside, carrying a tray in his big hands.

  “I heard the water running and assumed you must be feeling better. Do you think you could handle some lunch?”

  Celia forced her eyes open, afraid to shake her head for fear that something horrendous might happen. Acceptable options did not include fainting or casting up her accounts in front of Kash.

  Anxious, she wished he’d go away.

  Oblivious to her state of distress, he set the tray on top of the dresser then came back to the bed. The back of his hand touched her forehead. “You’re a little warm, but not like yesterday. Your throat still hurt?”

  She blinked.

  “Would you like some soup? Dad bought a truckload of cold remedies. I’m pretty sure there’s something that should help, but you might want to have something in your stomach first.”

  Celia whole-heartedly agreed with Kash. She was dizzy, nauseous, wrapped in a damp towel, and precariously perched on the brink of tears. Determined not to cry, she closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Do you want to go to the doctor? It wouldn’t be any trouble to take you into town.” Kash sat down on the bed and cupped her chin in his callused hand.

  A tear slipped out of the corner of Celia’s eye and rolled over her cheek.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Kash brushed away the tear. “Don’t cry, Celia.”

  Another tear leaked out and coursed downward. Kash grabbed a tissue from the box that had appeared on the nightstand while she slept.

  He wiped away her tear and smiled. “Will you at least try some of the soup?”

  Since the room no longer rotated around her, she slowly nodded her head.

  Kash retrieved the tray and set it across her lap. Careful to keep the covers clutched beneath her chin and tucked around her, she scooted back on the pillows.

  Although he waited for her to stick out an arm and lift the spoon, she couldn’t do that without revealing all she wore was a soggy towel.

  When she continued to hesitate, he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the spoon.

  “I haven’t fed anyone since Ransom broke both his arms when we were seven. I’ll try not to spill.” He draped a napkin ben
eath her chin and lifted a spoon full of chicken soup to her lips.

  The hot, savory broth was the best Celia thought she’d ever tasted. As she swallowed, she quirked an eyebrow and gave him a questioning look.

  “How did Ransom break both arms? Is that what you want to know?” Kash spooned another bite.

  Celia nodded.

  “Well, we were playing out in the barn. It was a two-story barn with an old-fashioned rope and pulley on one end. My grandpa used it to haul stuff up to the loft in the barn. Anyway, Ransom dared me to run and jump out of the barn, grab the rope, and slide down. I did it with no problem, so I taunted him that he couldn’t make it. When he jumped out, he caught the rope with one hand, slid part way down, and fell the rest of the way, landing flat on both arms.” Kash fed her another spoonful of chunky chicken and noodles. “It wasn’t a very fun summer for Ransom, stuck in the house with two casts. He couldn’t feed himself, dress himself, or do anything without assistance. Because I heckled him until he jumped, I felt guilty.”

  Kash fed her the last bite of the soup then dabbed her mouth with the napkin. “Ransom never let me forget it was my fault he had a miserable summer.”

  After setting the tray on the end of the bed, he held out a glass of orange juice with a straw. Celia took several long sips before her eyes drooped and she fought to keep them open. Kash set aside the glass and told her to stay awake for a minute longer. He hurried out of the room and soon returned with two plastic bags full of cough syrup, cold medicine, vapor rub and throat lozenges.

  At her astonished expression, he grinned. “Dad wasn’t sure what to get, so I think he bought one of everything. Point to what you want and I’ll dose you up then get out of your hair.”

  Celia wiggled a finger out of the covers and pointed to a bottle of cough syrup. Kash gave her a dose then moved all the medicine to the dresser.

  As he bent over to lift the tray, she coughed from deep in her chest. She snatched a handful of tissues from the nightstand and held them over her mouth. Kash reached behind her and rubbed her back, connecting with bare skin.