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White Christmas

Page 1

by Cheryl Pierson




  Since her divorce, busy ER nurse Carlie Thomas has been only too happy to spend Christmas on duty. This year, however, she’s decided to take a much-needed break. What she gets instead is an unexpected houseguest, courtesy of her Uncle Rick.

  Derek Pierce, a fireman with no family, needs some special care after being injured in a fire. As Christmas approaches, Carlie discovers that she has more in common with Derek than being alone. But Derek’s wounds are more than just skin deep. Will they spend the holidays haunted by the ghosts of the past, or could this Christmas spark a new, beautiful friendship…or even something more?

  White Christmas

  by

  Cheryl Pierson

  White Christmas by Cheryl Pierson

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright © 2011 Cheryl Pierson

  (Previously appearing in A Christmas Collection Anthology: Spicy 2010)

  Fire Star Press

  www.firestarpress

  All rights reserved.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter One

  The box was being so damn stubborn. Lights, it said on the side. Couldn't have a tree with no lights. And this year, Carlie was going to have a tree. It seemed like every year getting the decorations down got worse, and there was nothing she could do to make Christmas any easier. The box was just symbolic of how bad everything had gotten over the last three years since Dan left her.

  Carlie blew a strand of hair out of her face and balanced on the pull-down ladder. This shouldn't be so hard. She really didn't have that many Christmas decorations. Every time she put things away after Christmas, she got rid of something. Lights that had worn out, or ratty garland...something always went in the trashcan or the donation box. Usually, both. And she hadn't bought any new decorations during the last four years.

  She'd known her marriage was headed due south then. A year later, she was divorced. Being alone every year didn't get any easier than dragging all this damn Christmas stuff out of the attic. Sometimes, she thought maybe she was getting rid of Christmas, little by little. It would take a miracle to make her care—really care—if Christmas even came next year. But this year, for the first time in the memorable past, she had the week off.

  She pulled hard, and the bulky box freed up quickly, nearly sending her sprawling backward off the ladder. She caught herself just in time, adrenaline pumping through her. She backed down the ladder, the box in her arms.

  Just as Carlie managed to set it inside the laundry room, the phone rang.

  "Oh, huh-uh. I am not going back to work." She'd put in for a week's vacation over a year ago. She hadn't had Christmas off for the last four years. Working as an ER nurse in one of Oklahoma City's major hospitals had not afforded her much opportunity for any time off at all over the last eight years—especially not during the holidays.

  She reached for the phone and checked the caller ID, a smile replacing the earlier scowl as she pushed the 'talk' button. "Hello, Uncle Rick. How's my favorite uncle?"

  "I hope that's true."

  Carlie could hear the smile in his voice. "You know it is."

  "I've got a favor to ask, honey."

  "Anything." The hesitation in his tone made her curious.

  "Well...don't promise it before you know what I'm going to ask." He drew a breath, then said, "Remember a couple of days ago, when two of my men were brought in there at Mercy for smoke inhalation?"

  "Yes. That fire over on Shartel—"

  "That's right. Kevin de la Rosa and Derek Pierce."

  Carlie had been on duty that night. The two firefighters' equipment malfunctioned and they barely made it back outside the burning home before they collapsed. Carlie had taken a keen interest in them, since they'd been under her uncle's command. He'd been sick with worry.

  "Kevin's back home with his wife and kids."

  "Great!"

  "But Derek—" He broke off, and Carlie knew he was unsure as to how to proceed.

  She smiled. "I know he was supposed to be released today or tomorrow. He was a little more severely affected." I know because I checked up on him.

  "Yeah, they're gonna release him this afternoon. But he needs someone with him. I mean, he has to do the breathing treatments every four hours— I know he won't do that on his own."

  "Typical man," Carlie teased.

  Rick laughed, then sobered. "There's more to it than that, though, honey. A year ago, he lost his brother, sister-in-law, and two nieces to a Christmas fire. It's coming up on the first anniversary of their deaths, and he's alone. He's recovering from the smoke inhalation, and by the way, you were right. He did have a couple of busted ribs. I know your team was the first to see them when they were brought in."

  Carlie's mind went back to the night when Derek Pierce and the other firefighter, de la Rosa, had been brought in. Derek had been in worse shape than his buddy. His dark hair was matted with sweat and grit from battling the flames. Soot and grime smudged his face, layering on his olive skin across his cheekbones. He had been handsome, even in that condition. She remembered the tingle that ran through her when his eyes cracked open and met hers.

  "Hi," she'd said. "I know you aren't feeling your best right now. Can you tell me if you hurt anywhere?"

  His hand moved to his left side, but he didn't try to speak. She understood. She patted his arm in comfort. "We'll have the doctor take a look, Mr. Pierce. He'll be in shortly to see you."

  As she turned to leave, Derek's look stopped her. He didn't want to be alone. She could tell, by the way he fought to keep his eyes open. He tried to speak, but couldn't. Carlie knew he was asking her not to go.

  "I'm here," she whispered. He nodded, then relaxed. She began to straighten the shelves in the little cubicle, then opened his chart again and made some additional notes. Derek's eyes were closed, but she knew he was aware. She wouldn't leave him until she had to. When the doctor came in, she stayed and spoke with him. But then they'd gotten swamped suddenly, and she had to go back out on the floor.

  She'd wondered how he had done, once they sent him upstairs to third floor. She called up and asked one of the nurses to check on him, to let her know about his progress...for her uncle. He was going to recover. He should be going home soon, depending on his progress. The relief that flooded her was oddly more apparent than she would have thought. That had been the day before yesterday. Now, her uncle needed a favor, and it included Derek Pierce.

  "I know you're on vacation, Carlie, but well... I was wondering, if maybe— Could Derek stay with you for the next couple of days? I know you don't know him, but I can vouch for him."

  Carlie's thoughts tumbled. Of everything she could have imagined, taking a stranger into her home for Christmas was not one of the possibilities. It had to be terribly important to her uncle for him to make such a request. He sounded so awkward and odd. But Carlie was already nodding as he spoke.

  "Honey, you know I wouldn't ask you, but he's been so...alone this past year since he lost his brother and his family. They were the only family he had."

  "That's awful. But...I can't imagine him not being married—"

  "He doesn't talk about it much, but from what I understand, he was married many years ago." He hesitated. "I think she left him for another man."

  "A younger one? He's only thirty-five. I've seen his chart."

/>   "No," her uncle said with a disdainful snort. "Not a younger one. A richer one. You know us firemen don't make a ton of money."

  For some reason, the thought of Derek's wife leaving him for someone wealthier struck a chord of sadness in Carlie's heart. At thirty-two, her own brief marriage had ended three years earlier. She stayed busy with her work, but even so, it wasn't enough to keep the loneliness completely at bay. That gnawing pain was something she understood. Especially now, during the holidays. She could only imagine how lonely this Christmas season would be for Derek.

  "Of course he can stay here, Uncle Rick." The words had been spoken quickly and with a certainty she didn't recognize. Her stomach clenched tightly, even as she forced a smile into her tone. "No one should spend Christmas alone, and this is my first one off in four years. It'll be nice to have him here. I'll see that he gets his breathing treatments, too."

  "Thanks, honey. He's pretty stubborn."

  Carlie laughed. "So am I. We'll do the treatments. Don't you worry. Just bring the nebulizer when you come. They'll send him home with one."

  "I'm supposed to pick him up today after three. When would be a good time?"

  "I'll be here. Just come on over when you pick him up. I'll fix an early dinner, and we can all eat together."

  Chapter Two

  Carlie had just turned off the oven when the doorbell rang. She checked her makeup for the hundredth time five minutes earlier. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she started for the door. Ridiculous. It was ridiculous for her to feel this anxious. Derek Pierce was just... Well, he was just another patient, really. Someone she needed to take care of. Breathing treatments. Rest. Good food. Companionship...

  She opened the door, her gaze going to him immediately. He stood beside her Uncle Rick on the front porch, looking none too happy to be here. A black duffle bag dangled beside him, his fingers gripping it tightly.

  "Hi," she said, swallowing hard. "Come on in, you two." She smiled brightly, ignoring what she saw in Derek's steady gaze.

  "You remember Derek, Carlie?" Rick asked as he followed Derek inside.

  "Sure," Carlie said, putting her hand out as Derek did.

  "Miss Thomas," Derek said in a low voice as he took her hand.

  "How are you, Derek?"

  He smiled and her heart almost stopped. Had there ever been a more gorgeous man in her living room? Had there ever been a more gorgeous man on the planet?

  His dark eyes were suddenly lit with the warmth of suppressed laughter. No doubt he recognized her attempt at ignoring his bad humor. His hair, now that it was clean, was almost as dark as his eyes. His fingers lingered on hers in a firm handshake. His palm was warm and dry. No sign of nervousness on his part at all. In fact, he seemed at ease completely.

  She was sorry he didn't want to be here, because once she'd gotten used to the idea, she'd begun to look forward to having him.

  "I'm better than I was the last time I saw you."

  She nodded and took a step into the living room as he released her hand. "You were sure lucky."

  "Some would say."

  Rick grinned. "He's got to start getting out a little bit sooner. He and Kevin both."

  Derek smiled at the tease. "Where should I put this?"

  "Oh, look at me—standing here talking. Follow me and I'll show you." Carlie turned away, flustered, glad for the chance to hide the rush of pink that she could feel flagging her cheeks. She'd been so mesmerized by him she'd completely forgotten any kind of manners.

  She led him down the hallway to the spare bedroom. "Here we go. I hope this will be comfortable for you. It's probably not as big as you're used to, but it has its own bathroom, and—"

  "Carlie."

  She looked up at him, framed in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the opening. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes drinking her in. "It's fine." He looked past her as he glanced around the room. "It's...nice. And I want to thank you for letting me barge in like this."

  "Oh, you're not. I mean—"

  He shook his head, his lips curved upward. "I am. And I know it. But Rick was bound and determined to see that I had a keeper. Got some fool notion in his head that I wouldn't do my breathing treatments if left to my own devices." He gave a slight cough.

  "Wonder where I got that idea, huh?" Rick's voice drifted to them from the living room. Carlie smiled, picturing him sitting forward in his chair, straining to hear what was being said between Derek and her.

  "Let's have dinner. Then, we'll get that breathing treatment out of the way."

  Derek set his duffel bag on the bed then shrugged out of his jacket. "Sounds great. Dinner, anyhow," he amended, pulling a wry face.

  Carlie laughed. "I'll let you get your stuff unpacked while I finish setting the table. Knowing my uncle, I can't leave the food unguarded for long." She slipped past him and headed back for the kitchen.

  ****

  "Everything okay?" Rick asked.

  She nodded. "I'm going to finish setting the table. What will you be drinking tonight?"

  "I'll get it. Just water." He patted his stomach. "Trying to get rid of this 'middle-aged' spread.'" He followed her into the kitchen and took some glasses from the cabinet. "Thanks again, Carlie."

  She waved a hand at him. "It's fine. I don't like being alone at Christmas, either. At least, I'll have someone to help me put up the decorations. What few I kept." Odd how hollow that statement sounded, even to her own ears. She forced a smile as she carried a bowl of salad to the table. Then she returned for the bottles of dressing.

  "Are you putting up a tree this year?" Rick's question sounded just a little too casual.

  "Sure." She watched him carefully fill his glass with water. "Why?"

  He shrugged. "Christmas Eve is tomorrow night." He glanced at her. "You're gonna have to hurry."

  "I'm on vacation this week, remember? I didn't get to have a tree last year. I was working nonstop. The year before, I had that pitiful little artificial thing. Two feet tall. Sat on the dining room table." She rolled her eyes. "It was pathetic."

  Rick laughed. "Easy to put up and take down."

  Carlie placed the baked chicken breasts on a platter, carrying it to the table. "I know. But this year, I'm going to do it up right. I'm going to buy a real tree. And I'm going to decorate it and leave it up until after New Year's Day."

  Rick's expression became serious, and he glanced quickly at the kitchen entry. "Carlie, honey," he said, lowering his voice, "don't be surprised if Derek doesn't share your enthusiasm."

  She hadn't thought of that. Rick's words were like a slap in the face. Of course, it was purely understandable after what had happened last year. Maybe... Maybe she shouldn't even have a tree. "Oh...I didn't think."

  "Nor should you have." Derek's voice sounded from the doorway. He stood glaring at Rick.

  Rick cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I only meant—"

  "Look. I know you're just trying to help, Captain. If Carlie wants a tree, she's gonna have one—with my help. I don't want to impose on anyone or change Carlie's holiday plans, and I sure as hell don't want to put a damper on Christmas for her or anyone else."

  The room was filled with a tense silence.

  "You aren't doing anything of the sort." Carlie resorted to her usual "take-charge-emergency-room-nurse" voice.

  Derek's gaze swung to meet hers, and she felt the shock of his inner wounds roar through her. His emotional scars were deep, and, Carlie could see, much more painful than the fractured ribs and raw lungs he'd suffered on the job. The agony that flared in his midnight-dark eyes took her breath away. She thought of her older brother, Allen. Losing him as Derek had lost his brother was something she couldn't bear to think of. How could she even begin to comfort Derek? It wasn't possible.

  For a moment, their gazes were locked, Carlie's words hanging in the air. Finally, she glanced away, then turned back toward the cabinet where the bowls of mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans sat. "Will you—will you help me put the
se on the table?" She tried to steady her voice.

  Derek took the bowl of potatoes and put it on a trivet, and Carlie came behind him with the gravy and green beans. She took a deep breath as he sat in the chair Rick indicated and Carlie sat across from him.

  "Well," Rick said jovially, trying to change the subject. "This looks wonderful, Carlie." He winked at her. "I shoulda known you wouldn't forget to work mashed potatoes in somehow. My favorite."

  Chapter Three

  He'd made a mistake coming here. Derek sat across from the beautiful woman he'd met less than a week ago, lost in his own thoughts as the dinner progressed. When they'd loaded him into the ambulance, his throat and lungs had been raw. The last thing he remembered was thinking he was going to die. Each breath had been agony, then mercifully, he'd passed out. When he'd come to, she had been there, looking down at him with eyes that were so compassionate he knew she had to be an angel. Everything had been white, and silver, and then she came into focus, smiling at him. His own guardian angel.

  She'd probably laugh her ass off if she knew what he was thinking. But it was true. She would never know how much that meant to him. He was used to being alone. He'd forced himself to get used to it, now that he'd lost everyone in the world who ever meant anything to him. He knew not to get close, but God, sometimes...sometimes he wanted that so badly.

  Even though he'd known he was going to die there in that burning hell, guiltily, he'd had the accompanying thought—at least I'm not alone. Kevin had been there. But Kevin had a family. When the ceiling had started to go, Derek had pushed Kevin out of the way. The burning beam had landed on him, pinning him, fracturing the ribs in his left side. He'd saved Kevin, like he couldn't save Jared, and nearly lost his own life in the process.

  But who would miss him if he were gone? Kevin had a wife and three beautiful kids. He had nothing. No one.

 

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