Crissy looked up at him before assuring him sweetly, “Worrying about a kitten makes it hard to follow rules.”
“So it does, little missy, so it does.”
Hanna placed herself opposite them, waiting until Crissy took a few deep swallows. Then she laid her hands on the table and listed options. “Brad is gone to work, and while I know he can help us when he gets home, we should make plans in case that doesn’t happen for a while. Patrick, how long do you think the cabin will stay warm enough that Blackie will be fine?”
He gave it deliberate thought before speaking slowly. “At least until the morning. With the snow coming down, it’s not that cold. The place is well insulated. I’ve banked the stove in the evening and had it shirtsleeve temperature still at noon the next day in weather like this.”
“Then there’s no need to rush,” Hanna pointed out. “In the morning, when Brad’s home, we’ll ask if he can take you up to rescue Blackie.”
Crissy’s shoulders relaxed as if all the fear had gone out of her. Only she stared at Patrick with begging in her eyes. “Are you sure you can’t send Rudolph?”
The older man glanced at Hanna with concern before shaking his head and motioning for Crissy to come climb into his lap. “You know that Santa is magic, right?”
She nodded slowly, fingers reaching up to brush his beard.
He smiled, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “One thing Santa does because he can’t be everywhere, is that he shares his special magic with people. It’s not the kind of magic that can make reindeer fly, but the kind that makes people happy inside. It’s special magic that helps them do things to make others happy. That’s how Santa can get so much done even though he’s just one man. He gets other people to be stand-in Santas for him.”
Crissy’s eyes widened with understanding. “So, you’re not Santa, but you know Santa?”
Hanna was holding her breath, wondering how on earth Patrick was going to keep this from exploding into a terrible situation.
She should have known that the smart, caring man could handle it.
He tapped Crissy on the nose before putting his finger against his lips as if about to share a secret. “Santa gets around. Chances are you’ve met him too, and no one who has ever met him comes away without being changed. You’re right. I’m not Santa, but I’m very well acquainted with the old rascal, and all the things that are important to him are important to me. Including little Blackie. I don’t have any magical reindeer that can bring him home, but between my son and your mom, I know everything will be fine.”
Crissy glanced at Hanna. Speaking in a whisper as if Patrick wasn’t even sitting there. “Have you met Santa?”
Hanna thought back to the people who had helped her when she’d been homeless and pregnant. To the people who’d been there for her when she’d been struggling as a single mom. To the new friends who had given so joyfully to her and Crissy in the past days.
To Brad and Patrick who had opened their home, and their hearts, to needy friends.
“Yes,” Hanna assured her. “I know lots and lots of Santa’s helpers.”
Crissy lifted her hand and pointed with her thumb over her shoulder at Mr. Patrick, raising her brows as if asking for confirmation.
Hanna leaned forward. “Definitely Santa’s helper.”
Her daughter took a deep breath and leaned her head against Patrick’s chest. A look of amazement came over the old man’s face as he tentatively cuddled her in.
“I thought Santa’s helpers were called elves,” Crissy said, her voice tired after the worry and excitement of the day.
Patrick chuckled, the sound so much like Brad’s it made something stir inside Hanna. Another reminder of the connection growing between all of them. Something warm and rich—a lot like what family was supposed to feel like.
* * *
The callout hadn’t been from the Heart Falls district, but three zones away, closer to Crowsnest Pass. As fire chief for the district, he had to travel farther when it was called for, but it sucked when it was one of these distant emergencies at a time he’d hoped to stay close to home.
Worst thing was moving deep into the country meant losing cell coverage nine times out of ten, and today was no exception. Brad was unable to phone Hanna and Patrick to let them know where he was.
He shook hands with the volunteer team to call it the end of a successful mission then drove for over an hour in the darkness before the sun began to lighten the sky. Long, dark days were the rules in December, but between the darkness and the heavy snow that continued to fall, Brad had inched forward instead of rushing home the way he wanted.
He got up the road to Lone Pine with difficulty, even his 4 x 4 fighting against the deep snow piles that had built since the night before. He was smoky and tired, and absolutely thrilled to push open his front door and walk into the warmth.
Being assaulted by a small child who wrapped her arms around him then burst into tears was the last thing he’d expected.
He stooped and picked her up, petting Crissy on the back. “Hey, sweetie. What’s this all about?”
Patrick’s canes echoed closer, his father’s face drawn with concern as he joined them in the hallway. “You didn’t check your messages.”
Brad shook his head. “I’ve been out of range and figured I should just come home.”
Crissy caught him by the face and forced him to look at her. “Mommy went to save Blackie, but now she’s going to be lost in the storm.”
A rush of adrenaline through his system sent every nerve to high alert. “What did Hanna do?”
Patrick held up a hand to Crissy. “Slow down, little missy. Let me explain, okay?”
She wiggled until Brad put her down, rushing into the kitchen as Patrick hurried to fill Brad in. “Seems the girls smuggled one of the kittens out on our tobogganing trip yesterday, and the teeny thing got left behind at the cabin. We waited until this morning, but Hanna insisted she’d better go get it before the weather got any worse. That was an hour and a half ago. She should have been back by now.”
Brad held his curses, quickly glancing out the window at what he already knew. “The snow is coming down harder than it was before.”
“She insisted she was comfortable riding the sled, and she knows the way. She must’ve had engine trouble or something.”
It made sense, but Brad was kicking himself that he hadn’t been there to help before Hanna had gone into the wilderness on her own. He hurried down the hallway to his room to grab a few things. “What was she wearing?”
“She’s warm. I made her put on Connie’s sledding gear, and she took some supplies just in case.” Patrick pointed back down the hall. “We put together some more food, so you go ahead and find her. Crissy and I will be okay until you bring her back.”
Brad gathered everything he thought he might need, stuffing a duffel bag full with extra warm clothing and emergency gear for if the worst had happened.
He marched into the kitchen to find Crissy making more sandwiches. Her face was set as if she was determined not to cry as she spread peanut butter carefully.
She spoke without looking up at him. “This is my fault,” she whispered.
Brad went to his knees in front of her, catching hold of her shoulders and making her look into his eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the kitten to the tobogganing party, but accidents happen. That’s no one’s fault, and I don’t want you blaming yourself for something like a snowstorm. Do you really know how to control the weather?”
She shook her head, eyes filled with moisture. “But Mommy’s not here, and that’s my fault.”
Brad itched to get outside, but Hanna would’ve insisted this was more important. “Your mommy is a grownup, and she makes her own decisions. If she went after Blackie, it’s because she thought it was the right thing to do. Just like I’m a grownup, and I’m going to do what I think is right.”
“You’re going to go save Mommy and Blackie?”
&n
bsp; “I’m going to go give them a hand,” he corrected. “I don’t think they need saving. I think they just need a friend.”
Crissy put her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. “I’m glad you’re our friend.”
“I’m glad too,” he said, squeezing her back and soaking in strength from the little girl’s friendship to chase away some of his fears. Then they stacked the sandwiches together and added them to the food supply Patrick had already prepared.
The two of them accompanied him to the barn where he got the sled ready. Crissy pressed a kiss to his cheek before going back to Patrick’s side.
“You take care of my dad,” Brad told her sternly. “You tell him to make you grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. And if I don’t get back with your mom today, that means we’re just being safe. You go to sleep on time so that Santa can come, okay?”
Crissy slipped her hand into Patrick’s. “Okay.”
“Do whatever you need to stay safe, and don’t worry about us.” Patrick ordered him. “We’ll be fine.”
It was like driving into the thickest fog imaginable. The only thing Brad had in his favour was he knew the land from having travelled over it since he was a little boy. Plus, his mom had trained them to use the rolling lines of gullies and hills to follow instead of relying on trees—she’d warned them there’d be times when they might not be able to use their vision, but they could know where they were.
She’d taught them there were times when getting home might be impossible, but you could still be safe. Hunker down, stay with the sled.
It was the only thing he was afraid of—that Hanna had gone off the trail somewhere and he’d miss her.
But his mom had also said to plan for the worst and hope for the best, so Brad headed straight to the cabin, putting aside the rest of his emergency plans until he knew for sure they were needed.
He came over the second-to-last rise when the scent of wood smoke struck him, strong and deep, and in spite of not being able to see anything, his fears settled somewhat. Someone was in the cabin, because the smoke was thick and new, not a smolder lingering from the day before.
He parked beside her sled, dragging the emergency supplies with him as he marched up on the porch. Stomping his feet and brushing the snow off his shoulders before he opened the door and peeked in.
The one-room cabin glowed with soft candlelight, flames flickering in the glass front of the airtight stove. Hanna straightened from where she’d been sitting in front of the fire, and a small black cat jumped from her lap and stalked lazily across the floor.
Relief tangled with joy, and he dropped his bags to one side so he could push the door shut, throwing the bolt against the rising wind.
Hanna met him halfway across the floor, pressing herself against him and grabbing on tight. Brad squeezed her, closing his eyes and letting his heart rate return to normal.
When he opened his eyes, it was to discover the strangest setup in the corner of the room. A chair rested on top of a box on top of the kitchen table, all of it like a strange set of stairs rising toward the roof. “You’ve been redecorating.”
Hanna shifted back in his arms. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was covered from head to toe in warm flannel. “I had a few troubles retrieving Blackie,” she explained.
He eyed her contraption a little closer as he removed his boots and snowy gear. She took things from him, hanging snowy garments on hooks and moving quietly as the fire crackled in the stove.
“I take it the ungrateful creature wasn’t waiting patiently by the door for you to rescue it?”
Hanna shook her head. “How’s Crissy? She must be scared to death.”
“She’s fine. Patrick talked her down. She sent you a million peanut butter sandwiches so you wouldn’t starve.” He closed the distance between them. “You scared me too,” he whispered. “I can’t believe you came out here to rescue a kitten.”
“You would’ve done the same, and you know it,” she told him briskly, placing her hand over his. “I was just catching my breath before heading back.”
The wind chose that moment to rush up, stronger than before. It rattled the windowpanes and sent a long, low whistle through small cracks in the chinking between the logs.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Brad informed her. “The chance of getting lost is too high.”
Hanna went to the door and tugged it open, the icy wind swirling around her and flipping her hair hard. Brad reached past her to push the door closed, setting his shoulder into it as a gust nearly tore it from him.
“It wasn’t like that when I rode up,” Hanna told him. “I wouldn’t have gone out, not even for Blackie, if it’d been like that.”
Her reassurance melted the final bit of fear inside his chest. “Good.”
Her gaze dropped over him, pausing on his cheek, and she stepped closer, running her thumb over his skin before pulling back to show a trace of soot. “Did everything turn out okay?”
“Other than I need a shower, yes.”
It was as if the thought hit both of them at the same moment. He’d warned her they weren’t going anywhere, not until the storm passed. They had food and warmth, and for the first time since they’d begun seeing each other, they were utterly alone. No one was going to walk in on them. No little girl would be knocking on the door to interrupt—
Hanna turned away, pacing to the counter where she pulled the largest pot from the draining rack where it had been left after the party. She came back, her face poker straight. “Before you get too settled in, I guess we’d better start melting snow.”
He pulled his coat and boots back on and slid outside, bringing in extra firewood while he was at it. Every time the door opened Hanna was there, working at his side.
Neither of them said anything about what potentially could happen. But they were thinking about it, both of them, awfully loud. Brad knew no matter how much he wanted her, unless she made a move, he wasn’t going to push her.
It was up to her now. All up to her.
14
It was less than twenty-four hours until Christmas, and Hanna wanted nothing more than to give Santa a firm talking to.
Or maybe she should scold herself. She should know better than to casually make wishes like if only I could be trapped alone with Brad Ford for a while.
Because it had happened. They were trapped, all alone in a remote cabin that was warm and getting warmer.
The scent of wood smoke wasn’t just coming from the fireplace but drifting from the gentle giant who stood at the table organizing the food supplies they had between them. He’d loaded the woodpile to overflowing, then carried two enormous stock pots to the surface of the stove, both of them packed solid with snow.
After removing his outdoor gear, shaking the fresh snow off and hanging it to dry, he’d helped her disassemble her makeshift ladder.
A rumbling laugh escaped him as he eyed the distance to the roof. “How did Blackie get up there in the first place?” he asked with amusement.
“He must be one of Santa’s and knows how to fly,” Hanna said somewhat grumpily, because discovering the kitten wasn’t going to cooperate had been a challenge she hadn’t expected to face on top of everything else.
And now Brad was trying hard not to look at her, which in a way made it nice for her because she’d settled in the chair by the fire again, with a clear view as he worked at the table.
He’d pushed up his sleeves, and his strong forearms were marked with faint lines of soot. Once again the words rose to her lips to suggest he wash up.
But that would mean he’d be taking off his clothes, and Hanna didn’t think she was strong enough to simply turn her back and pretend he wasn’t there. To pretend she didn’t want to watch as he stripped everything from his strong body.
It would take more strength than she had to deny that what she wanted was to strip down with him and take this relationship to the logical next step.
She tucked her legs in tighter, wrapped her arms around
her knees and stared into the fire, letting her racing thoughts circle again and again until peace slid into place. It seemed impossible to focus on the gold and red flames and keep the tension twisting inside. And as the warmth stroked her arms and Brad settled into the chair beside her, Hanna realized her biggest fears weren’t about him.
It was still the past shaking her foundation. It was still worries that, if she took another step, he might turn around and strip her heart away. Because there was no lying to herself about this—it wasn’t just physical need between them.
Her heart was involved.
Hanna turned and deliberately examined him, thinking of everything that made Brad who he was. His ready smile, the way he moved his big body so intentionally, turning himself into a protective wall at a moment’s notice.
Strong hands that he’d used to cradle Crissy carefully, the same hands that had sent his brother reeling and had also brought her pleasure—
The things she knew about him, she admired. He wasn’t the boy who’d slept with her then broken her heart. He wasn’t her family who’d deserted her when they should’ve been supportive.
Brad was solid, not just in body but inside as well, and whatever fate had brought them to this point, it was time for her to let go of the past and embrace her future.
The lid on one of the pots rumbled as the water came to a boil, and Hanna rose to her feet, ignoring the question in his gaze as she pulled together the things she needed. She gathered a cloth she’d found in one of the totes and a washbasin that she balanced on the table beside the wood-burning stove. She placed a couple of scoops of cold water in first before adding ladles from the stove until the tub was the perfect temperature.
Hanna took a deep breath then turned to face him. “Take off your shirt,” she ordered.
Brad went still. Motionless as he looked her over from top to bottom. “Hanna?”
Announcing her intentions was intimidating beyond belief, and yet he deserved to hear it. She pulled in her bravery and stepped between his knees, reaching to undo the buttons of his shirt. “You smell like a fire pit,” she told him bluntly.
A Firefighter’s Christmas Gift: Holidays in Heart Falls: Book 1 Page 14
