02 Turn to Me - Kathleen Turner

by Tiffany Snow

  “Dead?” Blane asked incredulously. “That quick?”

  I giggled. “Yep. The whole thing had turned brown and needles were falling by the bucketful. I was crying because our Christmas tree looked horrible and dad was cussing a blue streak about getting ripped off at the tree place. We had to take the whole thing down and get rid of it. I think Mom and Dad would have been fine without a tree, but I certainly wasn't. It was still four weeks until Christmas! So that was the year we bought an artificial tree.”

  Blane laughed with me, reaching across the console and threading his fingers through mine. We spent the rest of the drive recounting favorite stories from our childhood Christmases. Well, mostly me telling the stories. It seemed to me that Blane didn't have a lot of favorite memories from his childhood. I told him about the time I'd gotten my Barbie Dream House, the best Christmas present ever, and how my mom and I used to sing Christmas carols by the fire. Sometimes my dad had joined in, but more often than not he had just watched us, a smile on his face.

  We arrived at the tree farm about an hour later as it began to snow again. The place looked like a winter wonderland with Christmas lights peeking out from under their gloss of snow. Christmas carols drifted through the air as they played over the sound system inside the large barn where Blane led me. It was warm and cozy inside, the air thickly coated with the scent of pine and balsam.

  “May I help you?” a kindly man asked, looking to be in his early sixties.

  “We're looking for a tree,” Blane said with a genial smile.

  “Well you came to the right place! I'm George and I can help you get started.”

  He gave Blane a saw to use and pointed us in the direction of the trees. “Just find one you like, make sure it's not too tall – they all look smaller in the outdoors than they will in your living room – and cut it down. Bring it back here and we'll finish it up.”

  We thanked him and started walking where he'd pointed. Not many people were there and I figured it was probably the weather keeping them away. Not that I was complaining. The further we walked, the more magical it seemed with just Blane and me in the silence of the snow covered woods.

  He held my hand, helping me through the drifts, some of which were up to my knees. We talked quietly, pointing out different trees to each other and inspecting them for flaws. I laughed at how particular he was – I didn't mind a tree with a bare spot or two.

  Finally, we found one we both could agree on, which was a good thing since it was starting to get dark. I got down on my knees, helping Blane scoop the snow away from the trunk. When it was finally clear enough, I watched as he sawed through the trunk and cheered when it fell over.

  “Ooh, Blane,” I cooed, batting my eyelashes at him. “You're so strooong.” I giggled at the expression on his face, then squealed in surprise when he started to chase me.

  I laughed as I ran, scooping up a handful of snow which I quickly packed into a ball and hurled at him. He ducked and it sailed over his head.

  “Ha! Missed me!” he gloated just as I lobbed another that hit him square in the face.

  I erupted in gales of laughter now, but had to take off again as a barrage of snowballs came flying at me. I ran behind a stand of trees, huffing from the exertion. Scooping up some snow, I waited, packing it into a tight ball. When I didn't hear anything, I cautiously peeked from behind my trees.

  I screamed, startled as Blane stepped directly in front of me, then started laughing at how he'd gotten the drop on me. He was grinning, watching me as my giggles gradually subsided. I noticed his long eyelashes were wet from the snow.

  “You're terrible at this game,” I said loftily, nose in the air. “I think I won.”

  “I don't know about that,” Blane said, his voice a husky rasp that made my laughter die in my throat. Putting his hands on my hips, he tugged me closer to him. The look in his eyes was one I knew well, and my heart started beating faster. “I'm pretty sure I won this game.”

  My breath caught in my throat as his gaze lowered to my mouth. Bending down, his lips settled on mine. My eyes drifted closed.

  A sudden loud noise startled me and I jumped just as the bark on the tree next to us exploded. The sound came again and I gasped in shock as Blane shoved me to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped. “What's that noise?”

  Gunshots,” Blane replied grimly. “Someone's shooting at us.”

  Chapter Three

  Another crack of a gunshot sliced through the air nearby as Blane grabbed hold of the collar of my coat, picked me up bodily and yanked me behind the trees. I was too stunned to do much more than stumble to where he led me.

  The sound of a gunshot was much closer this time and I nearly jumped out of my skin, then I saw it had come from the gun in Blane's hand.

  “You brought your gun Christmas tree shopping?” I hissed. “Seriously?”

  He just gave me a look. I rolled my eyes, then yelped again and covered my head with my arms as a bullet smacked through the branches above us.

  “I'll provide cover,” Blane said, “you run as fast as you can back to the barn.”

  “What? No way,” I said, shaking my head firmly. “I'm not leaving you.”

  “We're an easy target out here in the snow,” Blane said, before squeezing off another round and ducking back behind the tree. “If I can keep him occupied, you can get back and send help.”

  I chewed my lip in indecision. I really didn't want to leave Blane by himself, but there was little I could do to help him. After all, he was the one with a gun.

  Blane cursed as another shot hit the tree we were standing behind. “On three,” he commanded, and I reluctantly nodded. “One...two...go!”

  I took off running the best I could back in the direction we'd come, hearing Blane's gun spit bullets as he provided cover. The snow impeded my progress but I reached more trees and darted in amongst them. I was breathing hard now and my legs burned from the exertion of running.

  I could still hear sporadic gunshots so I kept moving as fast I could. I had to find help for Blane. What if he didn't duck behind a tree fast enough? What if he ran out of bullets? The what-ifs terrified me and I prayed he would be okay.

  After what felt like forever, it started to snow yet again, the fat flakes resting gently on my nose and eyelashes. I realized I should have been back to the barn by now. Blane and I had walked a ways, but I'd been running back. Stopping, I looked around in confusion. Dusk was fading, the falling snow becoming a thick curtain that was difficult to see through. Everything looked the same around me - endless rows of Christmas trees. As I turned around, I realized I couldn't tell which direction I'd just come from, my footprints already disappearing under a new layer of snow.

  I fought down panic. I couldn't be lost – we hadn't gone that far. The barn should be right up ahead past this grove of trees. I hurried forward, certain I was right. Stepping out from the trees into a large clearing, I was dismayed to see how wrong I'd been.

  There were no man-made structures in sight, just woods. Not even the neat little rows of Christmas trees now, just naturally growing ones. Uncertain what to do, I walked further into the clearing, wondering if I should stop walking and stay put. Wasn't that what my dad had always told me to do if I got lost? Except I didn't know if anyone would be coming to find me.

  I wondered if Blane was okay and frustrated tears stung my eyes. If my failure to get help had resulted in him getting injured, or worse...but I couldn't finish that thought.

  A movement caught my eye and I was relieved to see a man standing about fifty yards away at the edge of the clearing near the trees. I couldn't see him very clearly because of the snow, but I could tell he'd spotted me.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Can you help me? I'm lost.” I started shuffling quickly through the snow toward him, grateful that I'd found someone who would hopefully know where I was. The man moved and I froze.

  He was pointing a gun at me.

  My breath seized in my che
st as I realized this had to have been the man shooting at Blane and me. If he was here, did that mean he'd shot Blane? Oh God, no.

  That thought was abruptly cut off at the sound of a loud crack and I flinched. I'd thought the sound came from his gun, but to my horror, the ground suddenly shifted and gave way underneath my feet and I was plunged through ice into freezing cold water.

  I had just barely enough time to realize what was happening in order to keep my head above water. I grabbed on to the surrounding ice which broke under my scrabbling fingers. The shock of the cold water was incredible, I'd never felt anything like it, and I started gasping, my breath coming in short, quick pants.

  I knew I'd hyperventilate if I kept breathing that way so I struggled to stay calm and take slower, deeper breaths, and most importantly, stay afloat. Looking back at the far bank of what I now guessed to be a small pond or large creek, I saw the man was still standing there. As I watched, he turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving me to my dubious fate. Bastard.

  After a few moments, I was able to breathe better and take stock of my situation. I'd always had a fear of drowning since I'd been a child and had accidentally gotten stuck underneath a raft in the neighborhood pool. I could still feel the panic of my lungs burning with the need for air as I tried fruitlessly to surface. But dying hadn't been on the agenda today and I wasn't about to pencil it in.

  Bracing myself, I tried to haul my body out of the water and onto the ice I'd been walking on before - that had held me well enough. But I couldn't seem to get more than my upper body out of the water, the leverage just not enough to get my balance of weight onto the ice. My sodden coat, clothes and boots were like dead weight, tugging me downward.

  My body was getting rather numb now, the cold not so bad, but I could feel my energy ebbing. I tried twice more to heave myself out, but couldn't do it. It was getting harder not to panic and I wondered if I would die here, my body locked underneath a layer of ice.

  Fear threatened to overtake me, sapping my strength. There was no way out. No one was coming to help me.

  I was going to die alone.

  That thought gave me a burst of adrenaline and in a fit of desperation, I kicked my feet like I was trying to swim as I hauled upward. To my surprise, that was enough to propel me out and onto the ice.

  Gasping from the exertion and cold, I just lay there for a moment, relieved to be out of the water. I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet, literally, and I still had to make it off the ice. Common sense said I probably shouldn't stand up on the ice, but maybe if I crawled....

  Getting gingerly onto all fours, I began to slowly crawl away from the hole towards the trees. When I was near enough that I judged it to be safe, I got to my feet. To my relief, the ground beneath my feet held. I'd never been so grateful to hug a tree as I was when I finally reached them.

  My brain was foggy, but I tried hard to think. Judging by how dark it was, I had to have been gone for nearly an hour. Looking around, I realized that the full dark actually was better than dusk had been. The snow was reflective and now I could see what I couldn't before, lights off to my left, their brightness amplified by the snow falling from the sky above them.

  Wearily, I headed that way, careful to keep in the trees. Each step was an effort that got more and more difficult. I was shivering violently from the cold which seemed to reach down into my bones with icy fingers. I was so tired. It was tempting to sit down and rest for a few minutes, but I was afraid if I did that, I would never get up. So I kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other.

  Finally, when I was wondering if I could take it anymore, I broke out of the trees and saw the barn about a hundred yards away. If I'd had the energy, I would have cried in relief. I went to step forward again and realized with dismay that my body wouldn't obey. My knees buckled and I landed hard in the snow. Through bleary eyes, I saw people moving by the barn, and with the last of my energy, I called out for help. No one seemed to hear. I tried again, even as darkness crowded my vision.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  I slowly became aware of several things – I was laying on something soft, was wrapped in something deliciously warm against my naked skin, and Blane was speaking quietly to me.

  Blane.

  My eyes flew open. Blane was sitting in a chair beside me, watching me avidly, lines of worry on his face.

  “Blane,” I choked out, trying to maneuver an arm out from the piles of blankets in which I was swaddled, “thank God you're okay.” I finally managed to get my arm out and I reached for him. His hand tightly grasped mine.

  “I'm okay?” he repeated incredulously. “Christ, Kat...” He shoved a hand through his hair and took a deep, ragged breath.

  “What? What's wrong?” I was taken aback by his demeanor. His usual iron control seemed frazzled.

  “What happened?” he asked urgently, ignoring my question. “Why didn't you come back here?”

  “I got lost,” I admitted. “Then I fell through some ice. I'm so sorry, Blane.”

  In an instant, he'd joined me on the bed where I lay and gathered me into his arms, blankets and all. “I'm the one who should be apologizing,” he said gruffly, “I should have stayed with you, not sent you off on your own like that.”

  “You were trying to protect me,” I defended him. “It was my own crappy sense of direction that got me lost.”

  Blane pulled back so he could look in my eyes. His smile was warm and tender as he brushed my hair back from my face. “Your sense of direction isn't to be trusted. Good to know.”

  “I'm just glad you're okay,” I said quietly. “I kept wondering what if you were hurt and I hadn't sent anyone back to help you?”

  He shook his head. “I'm fine, as you can see. The guy ran off a few minutes after you left. I tried to follow your trail, but the snow had started coming down again and I lost it.”

  “He found me,” I said, grimly reminded of my encounter at the creek. “He had a gun pointed at me, then the ice broke and I fell in.”

  “He found you?” Blane asked. “Had a gun on you then watched you fall in the water?” His voice was flat and hard.

  I nodded. “He left and I was able to get out.”

  Blane's eyes shut at this and he rubbed his forehead wearily. I realized we'd had a lot of drama this weekend, more than I really wanted or needed, and wondered uneasily if Blane was thinking the same thing.

  Looking at Blane with these thoughts rattling around in my head made me uneasy, so I glanced away. Checking out the little bedroom I was in, I saw the walls were painted a cheery buttercup yellow, the sparse furniture white. What looked like a hand-made quilt covered the bed and another was wrapped around me. A small lamp burned on the bedside table, giving a warm and cozy feel to the room.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Blane raised his head with a sigh. “The upstairs of the barn,” he said. “George and his wife, Martha-”

  “Really?” I interrupted. “George and Martha?” I grinned. “Please don't tell me their last name is Washington.”

  Blane's lips twitched in small smile. “I don't think so, no. But they were helping me organize the search for you when you came out of the woods. They offered me this room so you could get warm.”

  “Well, that was thoughtful of them,” I said. I thought for a moment. “Do you think they'll give us a discount on the tree?”

  Blane was silent as he stared at me.

  “What?” I asked. “I think we should get a discount, don't you?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, deadpan. I cracked a grin.

  A knock at the door interrupted us and it opened to reveal a small, older woman wearing faded jeans and a thick green sweatshirt with “Ho! Ho! Ho!” emblazoned in shiny red letters across the chest. Sparkly silver bell earrings dangled from her ears, making her jingle as she walked.

  “Oh good, you're awake!” she said, sitting a small tray on the bedside table. She took in the sight of Blane cradling me in his arms with an
indulgent smile. “See, young man, I told you she'd be just fine. Nothing that blankets, some hot tea and a little TLC won't fix.”

  “You were right, Martha,” Blane agreed, his arms tightening around me.

  “Of course, I was. Drink the tea, that'll warm you right up. Your clothes should be dry soon. Now, if you two need anything else, just let me know,” she instructed.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “I'm sorry for the trouble.”

  “No trouble at all, dear,” Martha replied, shutting the door behind her.

  “Here, drink this,” Blane said, picking a steaming mug off the tray.

  I reached for it, keeping the blanket pulled up to cover myself. The warm tea was heavenly and I finished the whole cup. Blane took it from me.

  “Hungry?” he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I rested back against him.

  “Not right now,” I sighed contentedly, curling into him. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

  “About thirty minutes,” he answered.

  “Oh, so not very long,” I said, relieved. “That's good. I thought it had been longer.”

  “It seemed long,” Blane murmured, almost to himself.

  I tipped my head back so I could see him. He looked down at me, his fingers lightly combing through my hair. His face was serious, the lighthearted banter of a few moments ago forgotten.

  “What's the matter?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

  He shook his head a fraction, his eyes not meeting mine, but following the motion of his hand instead. When he didn't answer, I decided to try a different tactic.

  “So why would someone be shooting at us in the middle of nowhere?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” he said. He finally met my gaze and my stomach clenched at the look in his eyes, grave and intense. It seemed like he wanted to say something, and I waited, but his jaw tightened and his lips became a thin line instead.

  “Maybe I just attract trouble?” I mused, only half kidding. I was hoping to lighten his mood, unsure what had caused the sudden thick tension between us. He didn't reply as he gathered me closer and kissed me. The kiss wasn't tender and gentle, but hard and demanding, his tongue sliding against mine as he cupped my jaw in his hand.