by Kim Watters
“Fine.” He blinked. “I was just thinking about my first time here.”
“Really? Then it’s not a pleasant one. You’re tense. If it’s that painful, we can leave, but I have a feeling this has nothing to do with here but someplace far away. Afghanistan is behind you now.” She knew him well, but not well enough.
“You don’t understand. It will never be behind me.”
“Only if you want it to be that way.” Her voice softened and her gloved fingers ran up and down his arm. “You weren’t the one who planted the bomb.” He knew she was trying to help, but her words had the opposite effect.
“No, but I should have seen the signs. I should have recognized that they knew my weakness for dogs.” Anger boiled inside him, begging for release. He should have brought an ax, but he doubted that the four trees he needed to cut down would be enough to release him from the tension.
“You weren’t the only one there. There were others who could have recognized them, too. What about the driver?” Her words struck a blow.
“But it was my job.”
“And given the circumstances, I’m sure you did your best. Things happen. Just like the night Jared died.” Holly’s face resembled the snow around them. “I know what you’re going through.”
His anger dissipated into the air as he gathered her in his arms and held her close, inhaling her floral fragrance. He needed to gain control over his emotions and deal with what happened. Everyone told him it would take time. That the nightmares would cease; that he would recover emotionally as he did physically. Maybe Holly could help him. Or maybe this was something he had to do on his own.
But until he did, there could be nothing between him and Holly, despite his growing love for her. It wouldn’t be fair to her or her son. He broke away moments before Cameron rejoined them.
“Look what I found.” Giving them a strange look, Cameron held out his hands. Five small pinecones dotted his gray gloves. “I want to exchange these for the ones I put on the snowman. These are better.” He handed them to Holly. “Here. Please hold them. This place is so cool. Why are the trees all in rows?”
“A long time ago, my great-grandfather decided to plant some pines right after he built the house and barn so we’d always have a supply of fresh Christmas trees. Once spring hits, I’ll be planting a few more to replace the ones we take today.”
“Can I help? How many are we going to chop down?”
“Well, let’s see. I need one, so does my cousin Meredith, and my mom needs one. Am I missing anyone?”
“We need a tree, right, Mom?” Cam rubbed his hands together and tilted his head forward. His eyes widened in expectation.
Holly thought about the fake tree in the garage. They were easier to handle, but nothing compared to the real thing, especially the smell. Candle companies only wished they could bottle the scent.
“I believe we do. Which one do you think would be the perfect one?”
“Let me look.”
As they tramped through the trees, searching for the perfect ones, birds chirped, and the sound of snow underfoot met her ears. Holly inhaled the earthy scent, unique to the area after a snowfall, mingled with that of pine.
Her mood lightened a bit, but some of the thrill had disappeared. Their guilt was the white elephant in the room that no one wanted to talk about. They both wore it like jackets that couldn’t be shed.
Mindless of the slight tension between the adults, Cameron led them to an eight-foot-tall pine. “This one right over here.”
“Are you sure? It might be too tall.” Ethan looked at her. “What height is your ceiling?”
“Ten feet.”
“This one it is, then.”
Holly’s heart filled with misgivings and joy at the sight of the two heads bowed together as Ethan showed Cameron how to hold the saw and cut the tree at the base. Cameron had blossomed over the weeks that Ethan had been working with him. He was turning back into the boy she remembered. But it should have been his father out here with him, and Holly had taken that away from him.
She let out a slow breath and digested Pastor Matt’s words.
She couldn’t control the weather that night or the patch of ice, and she’d done everything possible to avoid the collision. There was nothing more she could have done. A few snowflakes drifted by her visions as she glanced up past the dark, gray, snow-laden clouds, searching for an answer. Searching for God.
* * *
“There. It’s up.” Ethan dusted his hands against his jeans and stepped back. “Good job, Cameron. You’ve just put up your first live Christmas tree.”
“Sweet.” Her son beamed with pride. “Look, Mom.”
“Awesome job. This calls for some hot chocolate.” Holly carried the tray with three cups into the living room, the scent of chocolate mingling with the pine. Her heart rate changed when her fingers touched Ethan’s as he accepted his cup. She tried to shake off the sensation that reminded her of the kiss in the shed. She’d been in a vulnerable position then and still was, with her emotions so close to the surface in recent weeks, and they were all due to the man fluffing up the branches of the pine tree.
“Thanks.” Cameron grabbed his cup and settled down on the area rug covering the hardwood floor. Sighing, he leaned back on the plush sofa and crossed his legs in front of him before he took a sip. “Okay, the hard part’s done. Don’t we have to check on the dogs, Mr. P.?”
“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t get too comfortable. Now the real fun begins.” Holly snapped her fingers and pointed at her son. “You don’t get off that easily. Decorating is part of the deal. It’s my favorite part. It’s yours, too, remember?” Good thing, too, because she was doing a lot of that lately. Not that she didn’t appreciate the extra money coming in; she did. Her gaze rose to the ceiling, and she managed to send up a silent prayer of thanks. Things were starting to get better. She had another job tomorrow for Mrs. Baker, another member of the congregation, to put up her tabletop tree and a few other decorations.
“Mooom.”
“Don’t Mom me. You know Figaro’s only good for swatting the ornaments off the bottom of the tree. The lights go first, then the garland, then the ornaments and finally the star. Got it?”
“Got it.” Her son sulked but pushed himself off the floor.
Holly wanted to wipe the amused grin from Ethan’s face. “You’re not off the hook, either, mister. Everyone under this roof is expected to help.”
Ethan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Looks like we’re stuck, Cameron. The boss has spoken.”
“And don’t forget it.” Holly laughed, took a sip of her hot chocolate and sat back on her heels. The laughter felt good. The foreign sound had appeared at the most unlikely times in the past few weeks, and she owed it to one man.
Ethan caught her son’s attention. “Your job for the next few weeks, besides the sanctuary, is going to be making sure there’s water in the base every day. A dry Christmas tree could cause a fire.”
“Got it.”
Holly dug into the box marked Lights and pulled out a strand of multicolored ones. Before she could stand, Cameron walked over and held out his hand. “Here, let me have those. Let’s put up the lights, Mr. P.”
Reluctantly, Holly handed them over. Despite her earlier words about Ethan helping, somehow when she envisioned putting up the decorations a few weeks ago, it was her and Cameron doing the work together. The idea that she’d been pushed aside hurt, yet Cam’s smile and willingness to help couldn’t be overlooked.
“Come on, Holly. You’re not going to let the men do all the work, now, are you?” Ethan held out his hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Of course not.” But maybe she should, since her reaction to him seemed to grow stronger with each passing heartbeat.
“You’re the decorator. Where s
hould the lights go?”
“On the tree, of course, although the rest of these are all tangled. I have an idea. Cam, we need some help here.”
“What?” Her son joined them at the box.
“We need to get these organized so it’s easier to get them on the tree. Here.” She handed a ball of tangled lights to her son. “Now, Ethan, you just stay right there and hold this.” She found the plug and handed it to him, a smile on her lips. “Okay, now, as we unravel the lights, Ethan is going to be our human holder. Ethan, all you have to do is turn slowly so we can wrap them around you.”
Cameron’s laughter joined hers. “Cool idea, Mom.”
A few minutes later, the first strand had been untangled and wrapped around Ethan’s middle.
“I have another idea.” Excitement and humor filled Cam’s voice as he plugged in the extension cord and ran back to Ethan. “I’m gonna light you up.”
The lights cast a multicolored glow on Ethan. Holly ran back to another box labeled Decorations and pulled out a hat. She flipped on the switch and placed the singing Christmas tree on his head. The tree wiggled around as the music filled the air while she and Cameron lifted their arms up and began to dance around Ethan, singing along with the song. Holly’s laughter filled the air again. When had she lost the ability to have fun? The thought sobered her when she realized that only one person was responsible for how she felt.
And she suddenly found herself alone with him when Cam left the room to run upstairs to get his camera.
Holly stopped dancing and stood in front of Ethan, close enough to take in the clean scent of the outdoors underneath the fragrance of the tree. His eyes clouded with an emotion she hadn’t seen for a while and her breath stalled.
Ethan placed his hand under her chin, forcing her to stare into his compassionate eyes. The scent of peppermint collided with the freshness of pine and pulled her to him. Holly wrapped her arms around his neck, needing to feel his warmth, his protectiveness, his trust. She claimed his lips. It was meant to be a light kiss, the kind between friends, but deepened into something more. Ethan made her feel alive again, and if she had to admit it, she enjoyed the kiss way more than the first time. Holly couldn’t deny it any longer. She’d fallen completely in love with him.
Hearing Cameron tread on the stairs, she blinked to end the connection. Before taking a step backward, she removed the hat and tossed it toward the coffee table.
“Walk over to the tree, and as soon as Cam takes your picture, we’ll transfer the lights.”
Once all the lights were on and the garland in place, Holly pulled out a pewter Noah’s Ark scene and motioned for her son. “Cam, here’s your first ornament. And here’s the ornament you made in Mrs. Beasley’s kindergarten class.” Holly held up the round wreath made out of construction paper with uncooked macaroni pasta glued to the outside and Cam’s picture inside the circle.
Cameron blushed. “Mom.”
“What? It’s cute. Maybe we should make more ornaments this year.”
“No way!” Her son retreated behind the tree with a bunch of ornaments in his hand. “Hey, aren’t you going to help, Mr. P.?”
Ethan settled back in the armchair and put his hands behind his head. “No. I helped with the hard stuff and need a break. This is between you and your mom. Besides, I’ve got my own tree to decorate, and you can help with that tomorrow after your homework and chores.”
The tree filled up quickly with ornaments.
“And now for the finishing touch.” Holly handed her son the tree topper.
Cameron scampered up the old, rickety wood ladder to place the star on the top.
The rung broke beneath his left foot. Cameron tried to regain his balance, his arms flailing out, grasping for something to latch on to. He swayed, tilted and fell backward.
Cries escaped both Holly’s and Cameron’s lips.
Bile hit the back of Ethan’s throat and adrenaline burned in his veins. But just like before, he was powerless to stop the chain reaction of events. He stood and moved forward, but it wasn’t quick enough. As if in slow motion, Ethan watched Cameron hit the floor with a thud and lie next to the ladder.
Please, Lord, don’t let him be hurt.
“Cameron! Sweetie, are you okay?” Holly dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and all the blood drained from her face when she saw the unnatural bulge near his wrist. With a shaky hand, she pushed the hair from his face. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Her gaze met his, looking for confirmation. Ethan knelt down, tasting the fear. “Don’t move, Cameron. Let me see what we’re dealing with.”
The boy nodded, pain creasing the skin around his eyes. His gaze scanned the floor and Cameron’s arm. No blood or exposed bone, just a bump where the bone had snapped from the pressure. At least he was dealing with a simple fracture. “You’ve broken your arm. Does anything else hurt?”
This time Cameron shook his head.
Ethan’s fingers probed up and down Cameron’s other arm and legs. “Can you wiggle your fingers and toes?”
The boy did as instructed. Good. Nothing else appeared to be broken, but he needed immediate medical attention.
“That’s great, but don’t move again.” Ethan took control of the situation. “Holly, after you get a bag of ice, I’ll go get my first-aid kit from the SUV. I have something to make a sling, which will hold his arm in place until we can get him to the E.R.”
* * *
Snow accumulating on the roads, along with encroaching darkness, made driving treacherous. In the backseat, Holly gripped the strap of her seat belt with one hand and held on tightly to Cam as Ethan’s headlights barely made a dent in the whiteness swirling around them. Holly kept talking to a minimum, wanting Ethan to give his full attention to driving. Still, she could tell Ethan fought to maintain control, given the whiteness of the knuckles on his left hand as he gripped the steering wheel.
Another incident rose to the forefront, except it was Holly driving and fighting the conditions because Jared had had a headache. Her hands clenched as the memories paralyzed her. She fought to push them back where they belonged. That time was over and done. This was here and now. Everything would be okay. It had to be.
“Stop it, Mom. You’re hurting me even more,” Cam whispered from the middle seat.
“Sorry.” Holly quit squeezing so hard and worried her bottom lip as the snow consumed everything around them.
Ethan’s wheels lost traction on the pavement when he attempted to stop at a stop sign. Nausea roiled in her stomach as the SUV fishtailed but managed to stop just shy of the intersection.
At this rate, it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, but going any faster would be unsafe. Please, Lord, keep us safe. Let us get to the hospital in one piece. Repeating the prayer over and over, she clutched the gold cross she’d pulled from her jewelry box.
It felt good to be right with the Lord.
“Hang on!”
Holly felt the wheels spin as Ethan tried to gain traction and move through the intersection. Her gaze froze on the red car speeding toward them from the driver’s side. Ethan tried to move the SUV forward, but he wasn’t fast enough and the other car blew the stop sign and clipped the back of his vehicle.
Holly wrapped her arms around Cam’s shoulders, squeezed her eyes shut and held on tightly as the SUV spun on the ice and snow. Time suspended as she waited for the vehicle to stop, the thud of metal against metal still reverberating in her ears. She grew dizzy and her stomach dropped to the floor as she braced for impact. Another thud jolted them inside the vehicle, and then muffled silence. Beside her, Cam whimpered in pain.
Holly lifted her head, opened her eyes and found Cam staring back at her. She gave him a quick once-over. He was okay. She kissed the top of his head and then looked beyond him. Glass fragmen
ts littered the empty seat behind Ethan’s and cold wind and snow blew in through the shattered windows. They’d jumped the curb and were wedged up against a brick building, the driver’s side caved in from the impact. Her heart stalled when she spied Ethan slumped over the steering wheel.
“Ethan!” There was no movement in the front seat.
No! Not again. Please, Lord. Not again.
“Stay where you are, Cam.” It took two attempts for Holly to free herself from her seat belt so she could scramble out the undamaged door. The cold wind bit at her nose and exposed skin as she opened the door and forced her way into the front passenger seat.
“Is he okay, Mom?”
“I don’t know, Cam. I don’t know.” Please, Lord, let him be okay. Holly managed to wedge her hands between Ethan and the steering wheel and maneuver him back so he leaned against the seat. She cradled Ethan’s head between her hands. Blood poured from the open cut on his scalp, but he didn’t regain consciousness. “Ethan. Please. Wake up.”
Tears burned her eyes. She loved him. There was definitely no denying it now.
Her fingers shook violently as she reached back for her purse and dumped the contents onto the seat, searching for her phone to call for help.
Chapter Eleven
Sitting in the front seat of the ambulance, Holly dug her fingernails into her palms and chewed her bottom lip, the paramedic beside her concentrating on driving. She closed her eyes, unable to look at the bleak scenery. She shivered. The scene replaying in her head wasn’t any better than staring at the blizzard outside. Over and over the images replayed in her mind and the jarring sensation of spinning out of control consumed her.
There was nothing she could have done. Nothing Ethan could have done.
“We’re almost there, Mrs. Stanwyck.”
Holly opened her eyes. Amid the swirl of white, Dynamite Creek Memorial stood out in red letters against the tan brick building as they turned into the parking lot. She swallowed and her breathing came in short, erratic bursts when they pulled up to the E.R. entrance. She hadn’t been here since the first accident.
