One Christmas Wish

by Sara Richardson

  Julia’s mouth dropped open. He’d told them about Leadville? All of them? Even Ben?

  “That’s quite the drive,” her sis-in-law observed. “You two will have a lot of alone time together.”

  Everyone looked at her now—with silly grins and probing gazes.

  “He offered because he feels sorry for me.” Like everyone else in the world. Which was weird because she sure as hell didn’t feel sorry for herself…

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were getting a dog, Julia?” Paige asked, looking wounded. “I would’ve taken you over there to pick it up.”

  “The whole dog thing just came up.” She didn’t tell them because they’d wonder why she all of a sudden wanted a dog when she’d never shown any interest before. And she wasn’t ready to let them in on her secret, yet. “Besides, I didn’t want to bother you with the wedding coming up and everything.” Although something told her Paige would’ve jumped at the chance to escape all of the attention.

  “It’ll be great to have a dog around here.” Paige darted around the table and plopped down in the chair next to her. “I can’t wait to see it. What kind is it?”

  “A golden.” She couldn’t look her in the eyes because Paige’s face was glowing with excitement. The woman loved dogs, and hers wouldn’t be around for Paige to enjoy.

  Shifting her chair, she searched for Isaac again. Where was he?

  The other women scurried about, gathering plates, clanking silverware, then Elsie, Ruby, and Avery disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her with Paige and that determined look her future sister-in-law got whenever she was on a mission.

  Here we go.

  “Ben filled me in on your history with Isaac. Sounds like you two were pretty tight, huh?”

  That fluttering sensation stirred in her chest again, like leaves scattering in a fall wind, dipping and soaring, spinning in dizzying circles. “We were friends.”

  “Nothing ever happened between you two?” she teased.

  The question clamped Julia’s mouth. So much had happened. Hers and Isaac’s history was interwoven by the delicate threads of childhood memories, shared experiences, and the self-discovery of growing up. She remembered everything. The time he’d held her hand at the zoo when she was six and he’d just turned nine. The tigers had creeped her out the way they stalked back and forth in front of the glass. Isaac had taken her hand and led her right to the glass. Then he’d knelt next to her. “Don’t worry, Jules. I won’t let ’em getcha.” She believed him. She’d believed that he could protect her even from a wild, vicious cat.

  Then there was the time he’d rescued her from a bull snake in her backyard. The time they’d snuck out in the middle of the night and gone swimming in the pond on the Jorgensons’ property. The time he’d saved her from eating lunch in the cafeteria by herself on the first day of her freshman year. Hundreds of memories starring Isaac escaped and encapsulated her in a wistful longing.

  “Whoa, girl. You’ve got it bad.” Paige propped her chin on her fist. “I want details. Did you two ever—?”

  “Ladies.” The star of her dreams himself cruised through the doorway just in time to save her from the question. No. They never had. But not because she hadn’t wanted to…

  “Hey, there.” Paige aimed an omniscient grin at Isaac. “Sounds like you two have quite the day planned.”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  Julia gathered the courage to study him. Damn it. Did he have to look so good? Who knew jeans and a dark gray fisherman’s sweater could be so appealing? He glanced back at her, and she quickly tightened her face into indifference the way she’d always done when Isaac was near. So he couldn’t see how much she wanted him.

  “Ready?” he asked, walking around the table. But his gaze seemed to avoid hers.

  Why wouldn’t he look at her? Maybe he regretted this whole thing. She sure as hell was starting to…

  “I borrowed Ben’s truck.” He positioned himself behind her chair, so she couldn’t read his expression. “Figured we’d need four-wheel drive, with the snow coming and everything.”

  “Right. Good thinking,” she managed as he started to push her in the direction of the front doors.

  Like she needed someone to push her…

  “You two have fun!” Paige called happily from behind them.

  Fun? Fun wasn’t how she would describe this situation at all.

  Chapter Four

  A blast of frigid air slapped Isaac’s cheeks as he eased Julia’s chair through the lodge’s front doors. It was like walking straight into a freezer. He paused to zip up his coat, and Julia took the opportunity to hightail it away from him.

  Yeah, she probably didn’t want his help. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to let him drive her to Leadville. She likely hated him. Because at one time, she’d been in love with him, apparently, only he’d been too blind to see it. And now she was in a damn wheelchair because he’d kissed some girl he didn’t even like.

  The heavy weight of regret bore down. Did she know? Did she remember why she’d left the party that night? More important, would she ever be able to forgive him for it?

  God, he was almost afraid to know, but he had to find out. Head down against the wind, he trudged to the idling truck. Julia parked herself next to the passenger-side door and yanked it open.

  What, was she planning to hoist herself all the way up there with the sheer strength of her arms? He’d love to see that, but he’d been trained as a gentleman. Like it or not, she needed his help.

  “Here.” He leaned down to gather Julia into his arms, trying to ignore the way she smelled. There was a sweet freshness on her skin, like the grass after a long rain. The scent made him want to press his face against her neck so he could taste her. Except he didn’t feel much like getting slapped. So he simply held her against his chest and inched toward the truck.

  She stared straight over his shoulder, neck tensed, face tilted away from his. But that didn’t stop him from taking her in. Her skin was delicate, still young, minus the faint laugh lines that curved at the corners of her full lips. A faded scar ran the length of her jaw, one of the many lacerations she’d sustained in the accident that night.

  “Mind putting me in the truck now?” she muttered, still staring at some ghost past his shoulder.

  Yes he minded. Because all he really wanted to do was hold her and kiss her and promise her he’d take care of her. That he’d spend his life making it up to her, if she’d let him. If she hadn’t been shivering, he’d have tried to convince her then and there to forgive him. But that bitter wind whipped around them so he leaned over to settle her carefully into the passenger’s seat.

  This time she actually turned her head to the side so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

  The guilt cranked his ribs good and tight. Fighting the wind, he slammed the door, then hoisted her chair into the back of the truck. He had to figure out how fix this. For at least two hours, he’d have her undivided attention. That’d give him plenty of time. Hopefully.

  But as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat and clicked his seat belt, he had no idea what to say.

  Next to him, Julia had shed her down coat to reveal a soft sweater that fit snugly around her chest.

  It’d be a damn miracle if he could keep his eyes on the road.

  “So I got us wedding bands,” she said, her voice tightened into apathy. “Only because it has to look like we’re married. I don’t want them to suspect we’re not.”

  “Of course.” This was all just a show. He had to remember that. Julia’s behavior would make it easier. She hadn’t given him a solid look since they’d been reintroduced. And who could blame her?

  “You don’t have to wear it now,” she said, quickly slipping the velvet pouch she held back into her pocket. “We’ll put them on before we get there.”

  “Right.” Because she couldn’t even stand to pretend to be his wife any longer than necessary. He shifted the truck into drive and eased it down the ranch�
��s winding dirt road.

  Julia stared out the window, the smile he loved so much absent from her face. Was it torture for her to be with him? God, he hated the massive elephant squished between them. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drive two hours wondering if she hated him for being a stupid kid. For not seeing what was right in front of him.

  He made a left out onto the highway. The wheels skidded on the icy snowpack, so he kept it slow and easy. “Julia…”

  He waited until she looked at him. Even though her gaze peered over, she didn’t turn to face him. And she kept her arms crossed tight over her chest.

  Easing out a steady breath, he gave up on decorum. He wouldn’t get anywhere with her unless he came right out with it. “Why’d you leave the party that night?” Maybe Ben was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t his fault.

  “What?” Her arms came uncrossed and she steadied them at her sides.

  “The night of the accident.” The words were strangled. He hated hearing them. Hated saying them. “Why’d you leave without us?”

  “I don’t know,” she said like it didn’t matter. “I don’t remember.”

  The guilt pressed in again, threatening to crush him. “Nothing? You don’t remember anything?”

  “No,” she insisted with an annoyed pout.

  But he couldn’t let it go. Because he remembered. He knew. And that changed everything for him. “No one’s ever reminded you?”

  “I guess no one wanted to take that fun walk down memory lane, Isaac.”

  Well, he didn’t want to, either, but he had to. He had a moral obligation. How could he pursue her knowing this stood between them?

  “Oh!” Julia clapped her hands, suddenly her chipper self again. “I almost forgot. I made us a playlist.”

  “A playlist?” What, were they in high school again? He didn’t want to listen to music. He wanted to tell her the truth. He had to tell her the truth, eventually. Wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t…

  “You’ll love it.” Julia unwound the cords and plugged her iPod into the truck’s audio output.

  Taylor Swift. Perfect. Just what he needed. Two hours of Taylor Swift.

  Flicking up the volume, Julia started to jam. “’Cause the player’s gonna play, play, play…”

  He turned down the music. “Can we just…talk. Please?”

  Her shoulders slumped. Obviously, talking was the last thing she wanted to do with him. “About what?”

  “That night. The party.” It was all he could think about. Blaring in his brain, blocking out every other thought.

  “God, Isaac.” Her head shook with an obvious irritation, but she softened it with a smile. “I don’t want to talk about the accident. I know you just got back and everything, but it was twelve years ago. I’ve dealt with it. I’ve moved on. So I’m good, thanks.” She turned up the volume again. “I just wanna shake, shake, shake…”

  Damn the woman knew how to shake her upper body.

  Eyes on the road. Much as he tried, though, his gaze kept seeking out that soft sweater. Her tone-deaf serenade and offbeat dance moves brought him back twelve years. He’d danced with Julia, once. At prom. When he was a junior and she was a freshman. Her date had turned out to be an ass so she’d asked Isaac to dance to prove a point. He’d gathered her against his body and held her closer than he should’ve, but she’d looked radiant in a long fitted red dress with a slit up the thigh, her hair pulled up loosely on her head. Julia didn’t have to work hard at being beautiful. She simply was. Her natural features were enough. That night, he’d been struck by her. He’d made the mistake of looking down at her, into her eyes. Everything seemed to stop.

  Heat had simmered in his gut just like it did now. That slow burn of anticipation making its way through him.

  They’d had a few moments like that over the years. Intimate and mesmerizing, but then Julia would pull away or make some joke. He’d always assumed it was too awkward for her, seeing as how he’d been more like a brother in most ways. Now he realized she hadn’t felt awkward. She’d been afraid. Because she’d loved him.

  That’s it. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Traffic in front of them slowed to a crawl in the swirling snow. He hoped it took them six hours to drive to Leadville so he could find a way to tell her the accident was his fault. To resolve this. Because he’d always loved her, too.

  And he didn’t want her to fear him anymore.

  * * *

  Whew. Pretending to be a Taylor Swift groupie turned out to be more exhausting than she’d originally anticipated. Julia looked out the window at the mountains crawling past. They were only an hour into the drive, just outside of Glenwood Springs. This happened to be her favorite section of the highway. The road snaked through Glenwood Canyon, where jagged red cliffs jutted up, blocking her view of the sky. To the right of the highway, the frozen river followed the road, winding and dipping in an icy path.

  Snow pelted the windows; the clouds overhead were heavy and black, promising to open up and dump a foot or two before night came.

  “Tired of singing?” Isaac asked through a smirk.

  Beat. And parched. She swigged water. Might be time to move to the nap phase of her plan.

  Yawning loudly, Julia stretched her arms over her head. She fluffed the pillow she’d nestled between them and propped it against the window. “Last night really wore me out,” she said through another convincing yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.”

  “You can’t sleep in the car,” Isaac accused, his eyes still as stormy as the dark sky above them. If the old-man furrow in his forehead was any indication, he hadn’t exactly enjoyed the concert.

  “Of course I can sleep in the car,” she insisted, fluffing the pillow again.

  He pointed his finger right in her face. “You’ve never been able to sleep in the car, Julia. Remember when we all drove to Vail for the ski trip? We left at eight o’clock at night and you didn’t sleep at all.”

  Damn it. She hadn’t counted on him remembering that little fact about her. “I was a kid back then. You’d be surprised at the things I can do now.” Right as it slipped out, she regretted it. A red-hot rush broiled her cheeks.

  “Really.”

  She ignored Isaac’s broad smile. “So anyway,” she choked out. “Nap time.” She could keep her eyes closed and her mouth shut for an hour. Then they’d be almost there. Yawning again, Julia nestled her head into the pillow and let her eyelids flutter closed until they blocked out Isaac. It helped, not being able to see him. The darkness settled the flutter in her chest that never seemed to quiet in his presence.

  “You’re not sleeping,” Isaac muttered.

  She inhaled deeply, as though her mind and body were lulling into a peaceful rhythm.

  “It’s so obvious you’re not asleep,” he said again. “Why don’t you want to talk to me, Julia?”

  Resisting the temptation to answer, she gave a contented little hum. She would be content to remain silent the entire trip…

  A sudden jerk jolted her upright.

  Isaac veered into the right lane and steered the truck down an off ramp.

  “What’re you doing?” She braced a hand against the dashboard. “This isn’t the way we go.”

  He pulled the truck into a small parking lot on the side of the road and hit the brakes hard. “We need to talk.”

  No. They couldn’t talk. She hadn’t devised a plan for talking to Isaac. “But the snow.” She focused on the windshield, even though she could feel his hard stare burning into her. “It’s getting bad out there. We don’t want to get stuck.” Because that would prolong the torture of sitting next to him, of inhaling his musky scent, of hearing the voice she’d once dreamed about…

  “I didn’t know, Julia.” Isaac took her shoulder in his hand and turned her to face him.

  Regret tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes. Not regret. Guilt. “You have to believe me. I didn’t know how you felt.”

  Her hands trembled with a caffei
nated energy. She didn’t want to revisit the past. It was hard enough to be with him now. But he’d managed to trap her. She couldn’t escape. So she faked ignorance. “What’re you talking about?”

  “I didn’t know you were in love with me,” Isaac said, his gaze holding hers. “You never said anything. You never acted like you cared.”

  Yeah, because he was Isaac Nash, quarterback of the football team, Ben’s best friend who looked at her like she was still six years old. She fisted the tremble out of her hands. “Can we drop this? Please?”

  “I don’t want to drop it.” And the man tended to be as stubborn as a bull. “You left the party because you were upset with me,” he blurted. “It’s my fault. I kissed someone else. You must’ve seen…”

  “Courtney Wilmer.” Julia made a gagging noise, desperate for laughing, casual joking, not the intimacy this conversation was headed toward. “Nasty, Isaac. Seriously. It must’ve been like kissing all of your football buddies, since she’d made the rounds.”

  His mouth gaped in shock. “You said you didn’t remember.”

  “Of course I remember.”

  “But—”

  “If I told you I remembered, I knew you’d make it a big deal.” Just like he was doing now. As if all of this history really changed anything. “It’s not a big deal. Trust me.”

  “But you left because of me.”

  “No. I left because I was a drama queen.” What fifteen-year-old girl wasn’t? “We were teenagers. Thinking through our actions wasn’t exactly part of our daily routine.”

  The truck idled. Isaac glared out the windshield, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “We need to get back on the road.” It was a known fact that Vail Pass shut down almost anytime there was a snowstorm.

  “So it’s true,” Isaac said, completely ignoring her plea. “You were in love with me?”

  She laughed to cover up a terrified squeak. “I had a crush on you. A fifteen-year-old girl doesn’t even know what love is.” It had felt intense. So intense sometimes she couldn’t breathe when he was close by. Kind of like she felt at the moment.