The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  “I haven’t either, but I grew up with them.” Kirstin shifted her hips to get her feet under her. “You don’t need to climb the tree. Just do an earthbound version of pole dancing. If he lunges at you, keep the tree in front of you as a barrier.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Cam work his way into a crouch.

  “One, two, three!” She sprang forward, moving to her left. Cam lurched into a run, going the opposite direction. “Zigzag!” she yelled. “Big zigzags! Don’t run in a straight line!”

  As Kirstin ran, she saw the animal start after Cam, but then it changed its mind and lunged after her. Good, she thought. By running in two different directions, we got a slight edge. She reached her chosen tree, a medium-size ponderosa, and planted the flats of her hands against its red bark. The moose was right behind her. She circled to put the massive trunk between her and Bullwinkle. The moose, broad head lowered, rammed into the conifer with its antlers, which her dad called paddles because of their shape. To her horror, she felt the tree shudder under the impact.

  “Kirstin?” Cam cried. Then she heard him yell, “Oh, shit!”

  She was too focused on the bull to even glance toward Cam. She heard the animal grunting. If she made one wrong move, circling right when she needed to go left, or vice versa, she could end up dead. The next instant, she felt hard bands clamp around her hips. Then her weight was lifted upward with such speed that she thought the moose’s paddles had caught her and thrown her upward.

  “Grab the limb!” Cam yelled. “Fast! Hold on and swing a leg over it.”

  Kirstin had no time to consider the wisdom of these directives. Cam was on the ground and presently holding her up. He’d be injured or killed if she didn’t move quickly. She threw her arms around a limb and hooked a knee over it. As she sat up to scoot closer to the conifer’s trunk, she saw Cam leap up to grab another limb across from hers. He swung forward, then back, and then forward again as he lifted his weight. The bull rammed his lower legs with its paddles, and she thought Cam might be jerked to the ground. But with a show of incredible strength, he muscled himself up to safety with only one arm.

  He inched toward her to hug the trunk just as she was. Just then she felt the pine shudder again. Cam, heaving for breath, tipped his head to one side and met her gaze. “We need a bigger tree.”

  • • •

  Cam had heard Montanans say that moose were more dangerous than grizzlies. But he had taken that warning with a grain of salt. People loved to tell newcomers scary tales, and he’d figured the moose-attack stories were just more of the same. Apparently he should have listened. But he’d been told that moose rarely visited this stretch of river bottom, so he hadn’t been worried about encounters. Now he sat in a tree and under him a bull moose was punching the trunk with such force the pine’s roots were in danger of being jerked loose.

  “Now what?” he asked Kirstin.

  She tightened her hold on the trunk as the bull battered the tree again. Her eyes were as round as quarters, and her face had gone pale. “Pray,” she said. “We pray. It’s all we can do.” She leaned sideways to study his legs. “Your feet hang down too low. You need to move up a rung.”

  Cam craned his neck to examine the protrusion of wood growth above him. “I don’t know, Kirstin. It may not bear my weight.”

  Just then the moose caught the side of his boot with an antler and nearly jerked him off his perch. He scrambled upward to sit on the higher limb. As he’d feared, it sank under his body, but it didn’t break. “How did this happen? We’ve never seen a moose around here.”

  “We have them on the ranch.” She peered down. “Where’d he go?”

  “He’s under me,” Cam told her. “He appears to be wondering if he could uproot this tree and kill me that way.”

  “It’s mating season. He thinks we’re a threat to his procreation plan.”

  Cam, who felt at least halfway safe now, said, “I’d be a threat if I had a gun.”

  Kirstin rested her forehead against the bark, blocking his view of her face. “A bull destroyed a tree on the ranch last year. It was about this size.”

  “He destroyed it?”

  “Completely, but it did take him a while. It became his daily hobby.”

  Just then the moose rammed the pine again. Cam felt the shudder clear to his bones. He gave the surrounding area a thoughtful study. He saw only more trees. “How long do you think we’ll be his entertainment of the day?”

  “Maybe only a few minutes, possibly until dark. He’s mad because we invaded his trysting spot. Shit. I am so screwed. Dad will notice that I didn’t get half the chores done.”

  Cam groaned. Kirstin added, “We need to sit still and be quiet. The sound of our voices is agitating him.”

  Silence settled between them. Cam’s pulse was still racing. Every time he looked down, he saw the moose circling below. Occasionally the animal would circle out, turn to face the tree, and then charge. It was as scary as hell.

  Cam guessed that about an hour passed. The moose gave the ponderosa one final butt with its massive antlers and then wandered a few feet away to vent his anger on Cam’s cooler, which flew into the river. Then he grazed on grass near the water’s edge. Cam and Kirstin watched the animal’s slow retreat until it disappeared.

  “Do you think it’s safe to get down?” he asked.

  Kirstin shook her head. “Let’s give it a few more minutes.”

  “I can’t believe this happened,” Cam said. “Damn! That creature was freaking massive. Almost as big as an elephant.”

  Kirstin started to laugh. Cam wasn’t sure how this was funny, but he soon joined her. They both hugged the tree trunk. Tears of mirth ran down their cheeks. When they both felt drained and exhausted, they swung from their perches and dropped to the ground. Kirstin landed with catlike grace, exhibiting to Cam a strength that he doubted most women had.

  “I’m walking you home.”

  “Not all the way,” she protested.

  “Most of the way. We don’t know where that bastard went.”

  When they had almost reached the grassy knoll where they’d lunched that first afternoon, Cam deemed it safe for Kirstin to go the rest of the way by herself. Still shaken by their close call, he drew her into his arms, which quivered like plucked bowstrings as he tightened his hold on her. It hit him then how much he’d come to care for her.

  “Ah, Kirstin.”

  She lifted her face to his. “I know. It all happened so fast that it’s a blur in my mind, but I was terrified. The moose could have nailed you as you lifted me up.”

  “He tried.”

  “How did you evade him?”

  “I pole-danced. I should visit some nightspots and apply for a job.”

  Cam was so glad to have her there, safe, uninjured, and so lovely, he forgot about the damned moose. He forgot nearly everything but this slender woman who had turned his world upside down. He bent his head to kiss her. She melted against him. He felt as if he’d waded into electrified water and gotten in over his head. Zings of sensation skipped over his nerve endings. He couldn’t hold her closely enough. When he finally drew back for air, they were both breathing heavily.

  “Be careful walking home. Don’t linger anywhere. Okay? And keep your eyes peeled for moose.”

  She nodded. Then she retreated a step and swung away to start moving over the rocky beach. “Text me!” she yelled, and then she broke into a run.

  • • •

  Caleb had skipped lunch hour and woodshop for a chance to spy on his dad. Now he wanted to punch his fist into the air and do a victory dance. His father had finally laid one on Kirstin, a big, long kiss with lots of tongue. Yes. Way to go, Dad! Caleb suspected they’d done it before, because they seemed pretty practiced at it. But it was the first time he had seen them kiss. Maybe there was hope for his father, after all.

 
; He didn’t dare get up from his hiding place, though. He didn’t want to get a long lecture tonight about respecting the privacy of others. He wasn’t hurting anybody, and by cutting woodshop class, he had avoided what he now thought of as the big chill. Not even the two girls who were taking the course got the cold shoulder from all the guys the same way Caleb did. In his other classes, Caleb didn’t mind being the odd one out. Nobody could talk but the teacher. At least he could pretend during those periods that someone liked him.

  Head still hidden below the grass, Caleb glimpsed movement off to his right. His nerves jangled. He’d walked quite a distance downstream and might be on Conacher land. What if he got caught trespassing? He shifted to peer through the tall weeds. He saw an old man on a sorrel horse. The guy wore a light tan Stetson, a wrinkled faded blue shirt, and jeans so bleached from sunlight and washing that they looked the same color as the pale swirls inside blue marbles. Caleb sure wished his jeans looked like that.

  Caleb had seen Samuel Conacher drive by their land in a pickup, but he’d never gotten a good look at him. This guy appeared to be old, pissed off, and mean. He was also riding a horse on Conacher land. Adding up the clues, Caleb decided the laws of probability dictated that it had to be Conacher. Are there laws of probability? Caleb wondered. Even if there aren’t, I’m making the call on this. That’s Sam Conacher, and he just saw my dad touching his daughter’s butt. This wasn’t good. In fact, Caleb couldn’t think of much that could have been worse.

  He needed to intercept his dad on Fox Hollow Road before he reached the gate and the private road. Only Caleb’s truck wasn’t at camp. He’d left it parked under a tree near the gate so Gram wouldn’t hear him pull in. She would have popped out of her trailer to ask why he wasn’t in class. He’d learned over time that she could be stone-deaf unless she wanted to hear something, and she had a nose for when he might be doing something wrong.

  The old man swung off his horse. Caleb thought, Wow, nice moves. He’s the real deal. And then he watched as Conacher walked in a tight circle, kicking up grass and cussing. Caleb was too far away to hear the words, but he doubted that a tall, sunbaked cowboy recited poetry to himself. Caleb jerked when the old fart pulled off his Stetson and threw it on the ground. Yep, he’s cussing, Caleb decided. And he’s madder than a yellow jacket stuck to flypaper.

  Caleb really, really needed to intercept his father. He might come walking up the private road to camp and get waylaid by Conacher. Caleb knew for sure that his dad could hold his own against most men. Unfortunately, he also knew Cam McLendon wouldn’t fight back if an old guy jumped him. He’d just take a beating and keep picking himself back up.

  As if Conacher sensed someone or something watching him, he stared right in Caleb’s direction. Caleb flattened himself against the damp weeds and held his breath. He couldn’t do that for very long and finally let his breath out. Inching up his head, he peered through dancing green grass blades and saw that Conacher was riding away. His body went limp. When the old man had ridden far enough, Caleb tensed, sprang to his feet, and ran as fast as he could toward Fox Hollow Road. When he got there, he angled across the alfalfa field to gain the highway. Stopping to get his truck would have been a waste of time.

  Chapter Four

  Cam walked with his head down, which was unusual for him. Normally he enjoyed the views all around him. But right now all he could think about was Kirstin. They could have been killed by that moose and featured in Missoula’s news headlines tomorrow. Cam hadn’t realized how much he’d come to care for her until he thought she might get hurt.

  “Dad! Dad!”

  Cam’s head shot up. He saw Caleb racing toward him along the gravel shoulder of the asphalt. For a moment he feared something had happened to his mother. Cam picked up his pace to shorten the distance between them.

  When Caleb reached him, he bent forward, planted his hands on his knees, and gasped for breath. Their camp was quite a ways off, but not a distance that would have winded a fit young man so badly. “What’s wrong?”

  Caleb gulped and said, “Sam Conacher saw you kissing Kirstin and touching her butt.”

  Cam winced. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I was out there.” He gulped for another breath. “Conacher didn’t see me. But I saw him. He was totally pissed, Dad.”

  Cam’s stomach clenched. He hated to think of Kirstin walking into a shit storm when she got home, unprepared for a huge fight with her dad. He jerked his cell from his hip pocket. “Hold on, Caleb. I need to text her.”

  “Good thinking,” Caleb observed. “Someone needs to warn her.”

  Cam made short work of sending the message and could only hope Kirstin read it before she encountered her father. “Why aren’t you in school?”

  Caleb shifted his gaze to the field. “I came home for lunch hour and cut my next class. It’s only woodshop, and I’m way ahead of everyone else on the project we’re doing.”

  “Did you let Gram know? You didn’t get in touch with me.”

  “No, I didn’t let her know.”

  Cam felt a buzz of concern. “Son, you know the rules. If you aren’t going to be where we think you are, you’re supposed to give someone a heads-up. What if you were in an accident or someone kidnapped you? We’d have no idea where to start searching for you.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Caleb hunched his shoulders. “I’m too big to get kidnapped.”

  “Grown men have been kidnapped, Caleb. Cut the crap.”

  “Okay. Fine. I didn’t tell Gram because she wouldn’t have approved. I was spying on you and Kirstin.”

  “You were what?”

  “Spying.” Caleb looked him straight in the eye. “Before you say anything, I’m sorry. I didn’t feel like I was invading your privacy. It’s state land over there, and anybody out walking the river could have seen you, too.”

  Cam made a snap decision to discuss this with Caleb later. He might lose his temper if he dealt with it right now. Without saying a word, he started walking again. At the gate, he saw Caleb’s truck parked under one of the bordering trees. “Let me guess. You didn’t drive in because you were afraid Gram would hear the engine.”

  “Yeah, and she would have asked a heap of questions.” He toed the gravel on the side of the road. “I wanted to get out there fast so I wouldn’t miss anything good. Then you took forever to come out into the open, and I missed another class waiting for you. I may as well skip the whole day now.”

  Cam clenched his teeth. Never in a million years would he have considered getting intimate with Kirstin in a place where passersby might have seen them, and thank God for that. He had a feeling that Caleb had been hoping to see something X-rated. Once they passed through the gate, he turned to his son.

  “You should get back to school regardless of how short the day will be.”

  “Yeah. I really am sorry, Dad.”

  “We’ll discuss this later. I can’t let it slide. I love you. Drive safely.”

  Slouching and hanging his head, Caleb walked to his pickup, and Cam turned toward home. With each step he took, he wondered what Kirstin might be facing right now. Only one thing seemed certain to him, which was that her decision of when to tell her father about their relationship had been taken out of her hands.

  Cam had just reached the cabin he shared with Caleb when a text notification sounded on his phone. He grabbed his cell and thumbed the screen. The message was from Kirstin. I can tell Dad’s upset, but he hasn’t said a word to me about seeing us down at the river.

  Cam wrote back, Maybe he’s thinking it over and concluding that you did nothing wrong. You aren’t a child. Going on a picnic with a man isn’t an unreasonable thing for a woman to do.

  • • •

  As Sam Conacher drove back to the grazing land, he knotted his fists over the steering wheel. When he’d gone home to meet with the farrier for a follow-
up call on a horse that had thrown a new shoe, Kirstin hadn’t been there. When she failed to make an appearance after more than an hour, he’d gotten worried. He knew she sometimes liked to walk during her lunch break. Recently she’d been doing that a lot. If she’d taken the usual trail to stroll along the river, she could have fallen. She was nimble and sure-footed, but after the farrier left, Sam decided to saddle up and go check on her, anyway. Accidents could happen. He hadn’t wanted his daughter to lie out there somewhere, unable to get home and possibly bleeding to death.

  Now he felt as if he were in shock. Plain as day, he’d seen Kirstin tonguing the tonsils of their neighbor. Sam had never met the man and hadn’t bothered to learn his last name. He knew just by looking at their damned camp that they were low-class. He couldn’t believe Kirstin was swapping saliva with someone so beneath her.

  Sam’s chest hurt. He felt as if he’d been stabbed with a knife. His daughter hadn’t been taking long walks. He’d only ever been a good father to her, giving her the best of everything. And this was the thanks he got, lies and deception? If his Annie were still alive, she’d be heartbroken.

  Sam wished now that he hadn’t granted an easement on his private road to the former owner of that acreage. The land wouldn’t have sold so quickly to those hillbillies without existing ingress and egress.

  Sam decided that he’d pay Kirstin’s boyfriend a visit tomorrow. It would be better if he went toe-to-toe with the man and left his daughter out of it, considering the confrontation was going to be ugly. Sam had made more than one young fellow pay for messing with Kirstin, and not a single one of them had made out with her in an area frequented by hikers and fishermen.

  The thought made Sam grit his teeth and then swear when a back molar panged.

  • • •

  Maddie had been worried when Cam started seeing Kirstin along the river on an almost daily basis. They’d thought they were being so clever, but when Maddie had suggested that location to Cam, she hadn’t intended for them to go there again and again. She’d told Cam more than once that Conacher was bound to find out sooner or later. And today her warnings had been proven right.