by Anthology
His eyes stopped on the empty walls, the empty room, the potbelly stove. “Did you just move in or something?”
“No. It’s my uncle’s house.”
“Did your uncle just move in?”
“No.”
“Who’s your uncle?”
Sadie snapped the roaster handle. “Hold up, cowboy. Are you trying to tell me you think I broke into someone’s house to use their open flame stove to roast chestnuts? Really?”
The firefighter shrugged. “I’m sorry. Just trying to do my job.”
“Well, you succeeded in not-saving me from a not-fire. So I’d say you pretty much failed.” She pulled her sweater coat tighter around her.
He grabbed the back of his neck and aw-shucks-maam’d all over her uncle’s living room. “There have been a string of house fires up in this area. We were just trying to be proactive.”
“By breaking and entering?” She hugged herself again and took a step away from him. “Maybe not the best strategy to keep houses safe.”
“I am sorry.”
“Maybe you should leave.” She walked to the door and pulled it open. It yielded quickly, since it hadn’t been latched after the fireman burst through it.
He gave the house one more look-around. “I really am sorry.”
She tried not to answer until she’d ushered him out of the house. There were too many insults on the tip of her tongue and she didn’t trust herself not to do something that would land her in jail.
The firefighter put his hand on the door as she closed it. “I was just trying to keep you safe.”
Sadie closed the door, but it wouldn’t latch. It drifted open and she found the firefighter staring at her with dark green eyes. “I’ll tell you what really makes me feel safe. Not being able to lock my door.”
The tinkling bells of the Nutcracker song that was on repeat next door pounded at Sadie’s blood pressure. Her intruder glanced out at the street and then back at her. “Let me fix this for you.”
Sadie shook her head. “You have done enough.”
“No, I owe you. I should have… I didn’t…”
“You didn’t think. You should have looked at the situation a little more closely.”
“You can’t stay in a house where the door won’t latch.” He put a hand on the door. “I’ll go get some tools and fix it for you.”
An orchestra hit accompanied a flash of lights from the Griswold Family Christmas next door. Sadie looked at where her watch would have been, if she’d been back in Houston. But she’d taken it off for vacation. Her wrist felt naked, as did other things, when the green-eyed fireman looked at her the way he did.
“You’re not gonna find anywhere open this late.” She pushed at the big, heavy door, but it barely moved with his big arm in the way.
“Plus, the wood is all cracked in the jamb.” He leaned over and looked at the lock, then slid a hand through his short hair. “But I could fix this in just a few hours.”
“Just go. I’ll…” Sadie shook her head. She didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t sit in her house with no front door lock. She didn’t have anywhere else to go—and she couldn’t leave her uncle’s house open, anyhow.
A loud orchestra hit sounded from the house next door, while lights flashed in time, and before long, another one sounded, and another, and another. Sadie expelled a breath. This was why she’d closed the windows. A Christmas to-do list was one thing, but the constant buzzing of carols… the same carol, over and over, all night long. It was driving her nuts.
“I can’t let you stay in this house on your own, ma’am.”
“Miss,” she corrected. “And how do you know I’m alone?”
“Are you alone?” He glanced around her, into the house. “Since no one came downstairs when I…”
“When you broke into my house?”
“Yes, I am sorry about that.”
The frenzied end of the Nutcracker song made her pulse race and race, and by the time the final orchestra hit sounded, she found her breath racing.
The fireman’s jaw was working, and they both stood in muted annoyance, staring at each other and taking deep breaths as the song started again.
“How are you not going crazy with this music?” He thumbed toward the twinkling lights next door.
“By keeping the door closed, mostly.”
His smile broke. “I really am sorry. Please, let me fix the door.”
“You can stop apologizing. I get that you were trying to help.” The orchestra hit made her breath start heaving again. This music was going to be the death of her. “Look, you can’t fix the door right now, and I can’t leave my uncle’s house.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to stay here tonight.” The firefighter pulled a phone out of his pocket and walked to the edge of the porch. The lack of pressure on the door made her lurch forward, and the words he’d uttered made her stomach drop its bottom and slide down into oblivion.
There was absolutely no way she would let a strange man sleep in her house. Regardless of whether her lock worked or not, she wouldn’t feel any safer with a stranger camped out in the guest room. Even one as buff and capable as this one. Maybe especially not with him.
Chapter 3
“Anything over there?” Will’s voice was tinny, the closer Hudson got to the annoying Christmas carol speakers. Even at the edge of the porch, he was already getting a headache. Of course, that could have been the skillet to the head, too.
“I thought I had something, but it turned out to be a potbelly stove.”
“We didn’t see anything here. I think we’ll pack up and go home. Audrey wants to watch Elf, so—”
“I should stick around up here for a while.”
Will’s chuckle was hard. “You know we’re past 9:45, right? You can stop working so hard on your off-hours.”
“I know. I just… I need to take care of something.”
From behind Hudson, a shrill voice called out, “You are absolutely not staying the night here.”
“Who the hell was that?” Will asked, but Hudson almost couldn’t hear the words, he’d gotten so close to the blazing Nutcracker.
“No one. Never mind. Just… I won’t be back at the station.” Hudson was about to end the call when Will’s laughter rang out into the cold air.
“That’s a girl, isn’t it? Tell me you found a girl.”
“Go watch Elf and leave me alone.” Hudson clicked off the call with a huff. He turned back to the chestnuts girl. “I’ll sleep out here, don’t worry. I have a sleeping bag in my truck. I’ll go get the door first thing and install it myself.”
She crossed her arms over what looked to be a pretty nice rack and Hudson had to force his eyes away. Not good to be ogling the valuables when he already seemed like a stalker.
“I don’t like this plan,” she said.
“I’m not leaving you here with a door hanging open like that.”
“Then you shouldn’t have kicked it in.” She stuck out her bottom lip like a little cherry for him to bite.
He was in a biting mood.
“I can’t apologize enough, miss…”
“That’s right. You can’t.” She looked at the ground in front of the door and then out at his truck. “Well, you can’t sleep out here. You’ll catch your death, and it’s supposed to ice tonight.”
“I have a winter-rated backpacking mummy pod that you could use in the Arctic. I’ll be fine.” Hudson vaulted over the railing and ran to his truck.
She called something after him, but he needed to get away. Away from her and the music and the lights and her. Mostly her. He didn’t like feeling like he’d disappointed someone or let them down, and all she seemed interested in was reminding him that he’d made a mistake. No points for offering to correct said mistake. Just a lot of attitude about…
Okay, yes, he made a mistake. But he would correct it, and he would sure as shit never do it again.
“What did you say?” he asked as he jogged bac
k to her porch, where she still waited and shivered.
“I said why in the hell do you have an Arctic sleeping bag?”
“It’s a pod.” He unrolled it so she could see the wide-shoulder, hip-hugging shape that would keep him warm in most any temperature.
“Never mind,” she said. “You can’t sleep out here. It’s supposed to ice.”
“I told you.” He held up the neon-colored bag.
“I heard the Arctic whatever ranked blah-blah. You’re not sleeping on my porch like some vagrant.”
Hudson opened his mouth to argue, but she made a shut-it gesture with her hand and he couldn’t help chuckling. She had just shushed him. Damn. He hadn’t been shushed since grade school.
“I said you’re not sleeping on my porch.”
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
“Then you’ll have to come inside.” She walked back into the house and ran up the stairs. Hudson was too dumbfounded to follow. Still. Even with his pod, he’d rather not sleep in the open air.
He shut the door behind him and put a chair in front of it so it stayed closed. From his hiking pack, he pulled out the toothbrush and toothpaste and passed the potbelly stove on his way to the kitchen. The fire still burned, but low and slow, barely enough to throw out heat.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and just as he was about to spit, he heard her yelling through the house.
“Hey! Hey, you! Fireman!” she was calling.
Hudson stuck his toothbrush in his mouth and ran out into the living room.
Her wide eyes immediately calmed and her nostrils flared. “Where the hell did you go?”
Hudson pointed to the kitchen with his toothbrush. “I was getting ready for bed.”
She shook her head and turned in a circle. On the floor beside his pack, she had piled a bunch of blankets and a couple of pillows, a copy of Miracle on 34th Street, and a pair of slippers.
“I appreciate the thought, but I think I’ll just go to sleep.”
“That’s not for you, cowboy. That’s for me.” She took a deep breath and turned back to him. “I want you not to leave my sight, ok? Just don’t be anywhere in the house without me.”
Hudson looked between her and the pile of things. “You’re going to sleep down here?”
“I can’t let you be alone in my uncle’s house. And since you’re going to have to sleep inside, I’ll sleep down here on the couch.”
He held up his hand. “That’s really not necessary. I’ll give you the number of my captain, I’ll leave you my driver’s license. I promise, I’m not going to steal anything, but if for some reason, something went missing, you’d know who to call.”
“Nope. Not negotiable.” She spread out one of the blankets. “I’m going to sleep here, and you can be by the door. If you go anywhere in the house without me, I’ll know. I’m a very light sleeper.”
Hudson thumbed back toward the kitchen. “Is it okay if I go back and finish brushing my teeth? Or would you like to be present for me spitting in your sink?”
She grimaced. “I think you can do that on your own.”
“And if I need to use the bathroom? Is there one? Can I do that on my own, too?”
“Okay, so my plan isn’t perfect.” She threw up defensive hands. “But you know what I mean.”
He rolled his eyes the whole way to the kitchen. There were plenty of people in Somewhere, TX not to trust, but not at the firehouse. You could trust them, if you trusted anyone. He got the feeling she didn’t.
By the time he came back to the living room, she had spread out her bedroll of sorts, on the couch near the stairs, climbed under the covers, and started reading her book.
“I thought that was just a movie,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow.
“The Miracle on 34th Street. I thought it was a movie.”
“It is. This came out at the same time.” She held the book in front of her face, almost hiding from him. “They said I should watch it, but I decided to read it instead. Cheaper.”
He stowed the toothbrush. “They?”
“What?”
“You said someone told you to watch it.”
She gave a little shake of her head. “It’s not important.”
“No, I think it’s important. Someone told you to do something and you’re ignoring them. That’s always important.”
With a sarcastic twist to her mouth, she finally said, “Y’know what I just realized, cowboy?”
Hudson unzipped the side of his sleeping bag. “That you forgot to eat your cliché chestnuts?”
“No, that—”
“You forgot to brush your teeth?”
“No, that—” She passed her tongue over her top teeth and Hudson couldn’t help a small laugh. Her movements were so reluctant, it was almost like he pried that one from the depths of her resolve.
“You did, though,” he said.
She launched off the couch and scurried up the stairs, turning at the top and looking back down at him. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Hudson climbed into his pod and held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not going to touch anything.”
In a few seconds, she returned with a toothbrush buzzing in her mouth. “Ah reyuwized ah dofnoyur nay.”
“You might want to wait until you spit before you try that one again.” Hudson let a wide smile pass over his face. He was genuinely having fun, even in this strange situation. “I didn’t catch a word of that one, sweetheart.”
He knew he had a disarming smile, so he was surprised when she not only remained tense, but glared at him.
She walked around the corner and he heard her spit, run the water, and click her toothbrush. Echoing from inside the bathroom, he heard, “I realized I don’t know your name.”
The water turned off and she slid into the hallway. Something comforting struck him in the easy way she stood against the door frame.
“I’m Hudson Peters.” He folded his hands behind his head and allowed himself a nice, long stare, for the briefest of moments. She drew in a corner of her mouth and regarded him.
“I’ve never heard of you.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.” He tilted his head to one side. “Should you have heard of me?”
“I mean, you’re not on any watch list, you’re not a famous killer, and you don’t have a recognizably creepy name.” She climbed back into the little nest she’d built for herself on the grey, linen-covered couch.
Hudson leaned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Y’know, killers are never famous until they get caught.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re hilarious, cowboy.”
“Well, I do try.”
She flipped open her book and read for a few seconds. Hudson decided she wasn’t going to reciprocate, and flipped onto his back, keeping his hands behind his head for comfort.
“Sadie,” she said into her book.
“What’s that?”
“My name. It’s Sadie.”
“Sadie what?”
“Sadie Capshaw.”
“Oh, good.” Hudson made sure she was peeking over her book cover when he added, “I’ve never heard of you, either.”
That got a smile out of her before she settled back down in to her blankets and turned another page. Hudson wasn’t sure why he liked that smile so much, but he could stand to see it again.
Chapter 4
Sadie awoke with her heart pounding. The room was dark. She wasn’t sure where she was. Someone was here. After a few seconds, she recognized the shape of the room, the faint glow of the stove, then the lump next to the door.
The previous night’s events sailed into her memory. Chestnuts. Firefighter. Door broken. Man. Man in her space.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin. A familiar, fluttery feeling boiled low in her stomach. Man in her space.
She reached for the book she’d finished before she fell asleep. The fireman must have turned off the light, because the room glowed dimly, fr
om the remains of the fire in the potbelly. She could smell the remnant of the half-cooked chestnuts, smoky and almost earthy.
There was always tomorrow for the chestnuts. When the stranger had invaded her house, she’d forgotten about the list.
Sadie opened the book and pulled it out. A piece of paper with half a Christmas tree printed on one side, The Christmas Heartbreak List had little green mistletoes hanging off the capitalized letters that started each word.
She was only half done with the list, but all the easy stuff was behind her. She couldn’t cross off the chestnuts yet, but she could cross off Miracle on 34th Street, at least.
For being a supposed heartbreak-healer, there was an awful lot of romance on the list. Things she might have done with Kyle. Watching romancey Christmas movies and baking, making a snowman. Her sister must not have read the list very closely when she sent it, because there were a fair amount of things that would increase heartbreak.
Chestnuts had seemed the most innocuous.
“What’s that?” A male voice broke her silence and Sadie jumped. The list dropped from her hands and onto the floor.
Hudson. That was his name. The man who had invaded her space.
“I didn’t know you were awake.” Sadie reached for the list and refolded it. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.”
Across the room, Hudson’s mouth moved, but most of his body was shrouded in darkness. He was at the very edge of the fire’s glow and most of what she could see of him was an outline.
“You were awake?”
“I’ve been awake,” he said.
Sadie turned on the couch so she could see him without craning her head around. He was on his back, arms crossed behind his head, just as he had been when she last remembered seeing him.
“All night?” she asked.
“It’s only midnight.”
That was why the fire was still at least a little active. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d stoked it. Maybe she should put another log on, just to keep the heat going, although the house seemed to be holding it well enough.
