A Very Merry Christmas

by Lori Foster, Gemma Bruce

  He turned toward her then, anger and hurt zeroing in on her most vulnerable place. “Just tell me and let’s end it. It won’t be the first time I haven’t measured up to someone’s expectations. Hell, I’m so used to it, I probably won’t even notice if you get added to the mix.”

  “Stop it,” she cried, not wanting to see that look of hurt in his eyes. Not wanting to be a part of whatever rejection he expected from those who should love him. “It isn’t you. It’s me.”

  “Oh, ha. Surely an ad agency barracuda could come up with something more original than that.” He poured wine into his glass. Put the bottle on the counter and held it there. “Maybe it’s you. Maybe you are the problem. You just can’t commit. Why should I be surprised?”

  “I’m committed.”

  “To your work.”

  That did it. The tears that had been hovering broke loose. Her mouth twisted in an effort to control herself. And then everything she had felt and feared and wrestled with came pouring out. And she didn’t have the strength to stop it or even temper it.

  “Of course I’m committed to my work. I can trust my work. I can depend on it.”

  “And you can’t trust or depend on me. Great. You know, Ally, I’m trustworthy and dependable. You just can’t commit to me.”

  “Commit to you? How can I, when I never know if you’re coming back? What’s to commit to?” She dashed at her tears but she didn’t turn away. Not this time. It was time she laid her soul bare and let him do what he would.

  He was just staring at her. Dumfounded. His anger washed away in a split second, to be replaced with total confusion. “I—I always come back. You know I do.”

  “Not if—not if something were to happen to you.”

  His eyes narrowed and the color rushed from his face. He frowned, reached behind himself to pull out a chair, and slowly sank into it.

  Allison ran her palms quickly over her cheeks to dry them. He looked up and she jerked them away.

  “Is that what keeps you back? You’re afraid I’ll get killed?”

  She nodded slowly, the tears starting up again.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  “That’s what all you guys say. And look how many of you haven’t made it back. It only takes one bullet or one bomb or whatever.”

  “Jesus, Al. Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because it’s stupid and selfish and it’s what you do.”

  Lee sat by the fire and listened to Ally cleaning up the dinner things. All this time he had thought it was her job that kept them apart. But it wasn’t. It was his. And she was right. It was what he did, but he’d never realized before that it was fear for him that kept her from committing. Now he wondered if there was a way he could reassure her; if it was even possible for them to overcome years of miscommunication and misunderstanding.

  He knew that they had spent most of that time reacting to each other rather than acting for each other. Was it too late? Had they built so many bad habits that they were doomed to failure?

  He didn’t believe that, not deep down inside. But he knew that he needed to get her to take the final step. It was now or never. He felt it intuitively. And if there was one thing he had come to trust over the years, it was his intuition.

  But was he being selfish? He did risk his life, not all the time, but enough. He loved the thrill, the anticipation of getting the next great shot. But did he love it more than he loved Ally?

  He didn’t know. And if he gave it up for her, and it didn’t work out, he’d be up the creek.

  The kitchen was spotless, yet Ally stood at the counter, prolonging the moment before she would have to go into the living room. She looked out the window into a world so black that it could be anywhere or nowhere. She was so aware of Lee sitting just on the other side of the staircase that she could almost taste him. Wanted to taste him. Was powerless against the attraction that pulled her to him.

  She was being stupid and cowardly. She’d dropped her bombshell and now she would have to confront Lee’s reaction to it. They had eaten dinner without continuing the discussion about her commitment. Had also eaten without tasting much of anything. But she knew once she went out, she would be starting the course to the final parting. The roads would be cleared by tomorrow, the next day at the latest, and this time when they parted, Allison knew it would be for good.

  She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. Surely even that would be better than this awful limbo they were living in.

  Lee looked up the minute she stepped into the living room. “Come here.”

  She did, to sit beside him, trying to soak in the sense of him, the feel of him, and wondering how empty her world would be without him.

  He put his arm around her, pulled her close. But for once, they didn’t drop everything and go at each other like two randy teenagers. They were at a crossroads and they both knew it.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Felt his heart beating beneath his sweatshirt. Felt every contour of him, the heat of him, the smell of him, and thought her heart would break.

  They sat looking at the fire, together as they should be, and both helpless to make it happen.

  When they finally went to bed, they made slow and attentive love. Each moment bringing them closer to the time when they would part for good. Allison lay awake for a long time afterward. She knew Lee was awake, too. But they didn’t talk and at last she fell asleep.

  It seemed like only minutes had passed when Allison felt herself being shaken. She pried her eyes open to find Lee hovered over her.

  “Wha-a-t,” she said on a yawn.

  “It snowed again.”

  Was that a hint of excitement in his voice? She blinked up at him.

  He was smiling. “Another foot at least.”

  Which meant no driving down the mountain today. She could shout for joy. She tried not to smile. Failed miserably. “You don’t mind?”

  He trailed his hand down her shoulder and slid it underneath the covers, cradled her breast. “Not at the moment,” he said and climbed in beside her.

  She shouldn’t feel so relieved. Neither should he. But she turned into him, felt his erection against her hip, and thought, this is the way it’s supposed to be.

  Lee nibbled her ear, her neck. His hands moved down her back, setting her skin on fire. And she was ready for him, instantly, as always.

  He eased her onto her back. His mouth moved to her breast, then to the other. He kissed a line down her midsection, pulling the covers with him and leaving the air to caress her wet nipples.

  She lifted into his mouth. Shuddered when his tongue flicked the sensitive skin between her legs. And she gave herself up to the heat that he drew from her. He licked and sucked, teased and caressed, until she burst into flame. He pushed her knees farther apart until his tongue could push inside her, then came back to claim her again. When she began to splinter he released her, pushed his body up hers and rammed his cock into her.

  She climaxed around him, called out his name as her own name echoed in her ears. They came together, hovered for a breath-stopping eternity, then collapsed into a heap.

  “Merry Christmas,” said Lee. He shivered and pulled the comforter over them.

  It was Christmas. They’d actually managed to make it to Christmas. Together. She snuggled against him, just as a loud, insistent knocking split the air.

  Lee started. Then groaned.

  “What’s that?” asked Allison.

  Lee rolled to his feet. “My best guess? Santa’s here.” He reached for his jeans, yanked them on and headed downstairs.

  When he returned several minutes later, he wasn’t carrying presents or good cheer. He was frowning and he looked pale and worried. He went straight to his duffel bag and began pulling out clothes.

  “What’s the matter? Who was it? Where are you going?”

  “It was Chris. Jamie and Jen are missing. The whole town is out looking for them. Chris asked me to help.”

  “Jamie?
Jen? Cal’s kids?” Allison pushed back the comforter. “They’re probably just out playing in the snow.”

  “No one’s seen them.” Lee pulled on two pairs of socks. “And with the new snowfall—” He looked at her with worried eyes. “Chris says that with all the new snow the hills are unstable, they could, they could…I have to go.”

  “I’ll come, too. Just let me get dressed.”

  “Too dangerous. I’ll let you know as soon as we find them.”

  The “if” he hadn’t said was palpable in the air.

  Allison began throwing on clothes.

  “No,” said Lee. “You wouldn’t last two seconds out there in those rhinestone boots.” And he was gone.

  The hell she wouldn’t.

  She dressed quickly. Ran downstairs, but Lee was already gone. And so were his two cameras.

  Trying not to think that Lee might actually be out there to take pictures of the rescue, she threw on her coat, hat and gloves. She shoved her feet into her rhinestone boots. They were pretty stiff already and the lovely blue color had turned to muddy gray. But they would do the job and so would she.

  Seven

  The day was overcast, but a weak blue patch of sky promised the sun would come out. As long as it didn’t melt the snow and make things start sliding around, thought Allison, as she used Lee’s footprints to climb over the mounded snow to the street. The street was covered with new snowfall and Lee was nowhere in sight.

  At the far end of the street near the green, a small knot of people were gathered. She waded toward them as fast as the snow would allow, but when she was halfway there, they moved away in the opposite direction.

  She would never catch up to them. She stopped in the middle of the street, looked around. It seemed like she was the only person left in town. She shaded her eyes with her hand and searched the mountains that rose behind the row of stores. Saw groups of people fanning out in all directions. She might be able to catch up to one of them if she could find a shortcut.

  Then she remembered Jamie and Jen bursting through the back door to the general store, Spanky tearing around the counter. What had they been doing out behind the store? Where had they come from? There might be a path that she could use to connect with one of the search parties. She came to the passageway to the stores. Snow had partially covered it and several chunks of packed snow had fallen from the sides. She climbed over them and stopped on the boardwalk to catch her breath. She was completely alone.

  She hurried toward the general store and looked in the window. No one appeared to be inside. Cal must be out of his mind with worry. And his wife, Tracy, whom they’d met at the Revels.

  She tried the door handle. The door opened and she stepped inside. The room was warm, the Franklin stove had been left unattended.

  She walked straight through the store and opened the back door. And came up against a wall of white. The mountain seemed to grow straight up from the back steps. Trees stuck out of the snow like candles on a cake. Above her and to the left, she found the nearest group of searchers, slowly making their way along a ridge. They were carrying shovels, rakes, picks, anything that could be used for digging.

  A gust of wind blew snow into her face. Holding her arm in front of her eyes, she jumped down into the drifts. Wasted a few precious seconds looking for a path. Found it almost directly in front of the steps, but it was nearly indiscernible from the rest of the mountain because of the drifting snow. She started up it, sinking knee-deep where the fresh powder had accumulated.

  She had struggled upward for less than fifty feet when she tripped over something. She fell forward on her face. Fear closed her throat. She struggled to all fours, crawled to where something was sticking out of the snow and desperately began clawing out a hole with both hands. Nearly cried out in relief when she discovered a jagged rock just beneath the surface.

  Struggled back to her feet. There was no time to lose. No one could survive out here for very long, especially not children or a small dog. She thought of Jen and Jamie bounding after their puppy, how still they stood onstage as Mary and Joseph, their delight when Santa arrived.

  She was covered with snow, her eyelashes were wet with it. She wiped her face with her coat sleeve and plowed ahead. At last she came to a place where the powder was tamped down by the prints of many boots.

  She followed the prints as they wound back and forth across the incline. It was hard going and after a several minutes she had to stop and catch her breath. And it seemed she had gotten no closer to the search party. She was high enough now to see other search parties in the distance, some on the mountain, some down by the road. Except for an occasional cracking sound, or a thump when a clump of snow fell from a tree limb, it was eerily silent.

  Then she remembered what Chris had said about the unstable mountains. Hadn’t she seen on a nature show how a yell could start an avalanche? Surely that’s not what he meant when he said unstable. She looked above her, to where the mountains rose into the gray clouds and disappeared.

  Those kids couldn’t have gone very far. The snow would have come up to their thighs. And Spanky would have sunk right to the bottom. No, they must be someplace close.

  Allison took a final deep breath and was about to start off again, when she heard a sound. She stopped and listened. Not snow falling. More like a bird? No. There it was again. A bell. The tinkling of a bell.

  The bell she heard their first day as Spanky bounded over the snow to the street. She looked around. Strained to decipher from what direction it came. Silence. She waited, hardly daring to breathe.

  And it came again. Off to the right, she was sure. She looked in the opposite direction to the search party that was moving farther and farther away.

  She opened her mouth to yell, then stopped. No yelling. And besides it might not be Spanky. It might be a decoration from the green, carried off by the wind.

  A few feet later, she found a fork in the path, and even though there were no footprints to follow, the wind had cleared some of the snow and there were places where she could get a foothold.

  Here and there she saw indentions in the snow, but it was impossible to tell if they were prints or just the natural evidence of a changing landscape. Every few feet she stopped and listened. Heard another tinkle and knew she was headed in the right direction.

  And suddenly there he was. A little black-and-white dog, a red ribbon around his neck, hopelessly caught in a tree branch.

  He barked excitedly when he saw her.

  “Shh,” she ordered and plowed toward him.

  He lunged for her and twisted against the branch. She grabbed him. “Hold still,” she said as she worked the ribbon from the branch. As soon as he was free, he jumped up, licked her face and promptly sank into the snow.

  She lifted him out and put him on firmer ground. “Find Jamie and Jen,” she said in an excited whisper. “Go on, boy, take me to them.”

  Spanky bounded away, then stopped and looked back at her. He was standing perilously close to the edge of a narrow ridge and Allison realized that she would have to cross it. Hugging the mountain, she gingerly followed. Something cracked above her head. A clump of snow fell right in front of her, nearly burying Spanky. He shook it off and waited for her to catch up. Then he took off again.

  She was sweating inside her coat with the exertion from keeping on her feet and not tumbling over the edge of the ridge. She looked down. She had gone beyond the buildings and was looking straight down on the village green. You’re not that high up, she consoled herself. It’s not the goddamned Alps or a glacier. Just a foothill. Foothill, her ass, it was a straight drop to Main Street. She puffed out air. It couldn’t be more than a hundred feet at most, with lots of snow at the bottom to cushion her fall, if she fell, which she was not going to let happen, because she had children to rescue.

  And warning herself not to look down again, she eased along the rock.

  At last she stepped out onto a platform of snow and hopefully rock beneath. Spanky ha
d stopped and was standing at attention in front of a black opening. Not large enough to be a mine entrance. Thank God. This was more like a natural schism.

  She peeked inside. Okay. More like a cave. She shuddered. If those children were alive and well, she hoped they got the spanking of a lifetime. Please let them be alive and well.

  She leaned into the darkness. “Jamie? Jen? Are you in there?” No answer. She was afraid to call out much louder. She was psyching herself out, but she wasn’t about to take any chances with an avalanche and she wasn’t going to go in there unless she had to.

  “Jen? Jamie?” she called a little louder.

  “In here,” a small voice echoed back.

  Thank God. Allison looked for any searchers that she could signal. They were all really far away. She waved her arms anyway. No one seemed to notice. She took a step toward the entrance, but before she could force herself to go inside, Jen appeared out of the dark.

  Her eyes were round and her face was pinched with fear. Her lips quivered. Allison dropped to her knees and the child fell into her arms.

  “Where’s Jamie?” Allison asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. Trying not to frighten Jen any more than she already was.

  “I’m in here,” another small voice echoed from the shaft. “I need help.”

  “He dropped the flashlight and it broke,” said Jen, sniffing. She rubbed her sleeve across her nose. “And he hurt his foot looking for it. Stupid. Boys are so dumb.”

  “I am not,” came the voice from the dark.

  “Are, too,” said Jen, starting to cry. She looked at Allison. “Aren’t they?”

  Allison smiled, blinking back her own tears of relief. “Yeah, they are,” she whispered. “But it isn’t nice to let them know we know.”

  “Oh,” said Jen.

  “Hurry,” came Jamie’s wavering voice.

  “Come on,” said Allison. But she let Jen lead the way.

  Jamie was only a few feet from the entrance and the area was lit from the opening. But still Allison had to look twice before she understood what she was seeing. He was surrounded by…Christmas packages. Wrapped up and tied with ribbons.