Christmas Collision

by Magdalena Scott

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  Who the hell is Blaine? He tossed the phone onto the rough coffee table. The piece of sleek technology skidded to a stop and lay there looking incongruous. And it felt incongruous for him to own the damned thing. He hated the cell ... hated that he had to have it, and that work so often caught up with him because of it. Even out here, where, if life were fair, the mountains would make cell service impossible.

  "Thanks for the use of your phone. I'll pay for the minutes."

  "I've got a million of ‘em. Not a problem."

  She leaned back against the cabin wall, piercing him with a look. It was intense enough you could call it the look. He'd bet there were people who cowered when she leveled it at them. He pictured a courtroom, an uncomfortable witness, and this determined spiteful little attorney starts toward them with the look...

  She pushed away from the wall and walked slowly toward him, her arms crossed over her chest. “So. David. I seem to have made an incorrect assumption here. I thought you were a mountain man, since you happened to be in this remote cabin, and you're so comfortable with being snowed in, not worrying about the electricity going off. Et cetera. But Midnight tells me you're an ... an attorney."

  "Attorney. Well. I don't throw the word around. Tends to make people nervous, or worse.” He leaned back further into the chair, and crossed his ankles in front of him. “Don't feel like you need to tell me any lawyer jokes. I'm not a fan. I have to be honest with you though, it's even worse than Midnight told you. I'm a judge."

  From the look on her face, Midnight hadn't told her that part. He wished he could go back to being just David to her.

  "Oh, my!” She laughed tightly. “Don't look so horrified though—I don't tell lawyer or judge jokes. I find most of them tasteless."

  "Well then, Rebecca. We have something in common after all."

  "We have more in common than that. I'm an attorney. No wonder we've been circling each other so warily ever since we met.” She threw back her head then, and really laughed. “Of all the people in the world, I end up snowbound with a judge! There is some kind of evil justice in that. If you'll pardon the phrase."

  "Hey—Evil justice? I'm not that bad.” He managed to look offended, he hoped. Was he up to “charming” yet, or at least making some progress toward it?

  She sank onto the couch. “Well, no. You're not that bad. In fact, you had me fooled into thinking you were human this whole time. So you must have some redeeming qualities in spite of being—"

  "Ode to Joy” began to play and Rebecca automatically grabbed the cell phone from the table and opened it.

  "Hello ... Blaine! Oh, Merry Christmas, honey! Yes, I'm fine! ... Sorry about that. Yes, I headed out at the last minute, rather ill-prepared for ... Uh-huh. Yes, okay ... I'll do that, as soon as I can! Merry Christmas! I love you, too!"

  "That's funny. You and I have the same ring tone.” She snapped the phone closed and lay it gently on the table, then leaned back with a happy, nearly serene look on her face. David certainly hadn't seen her look serene before. So this guy Blaine was...

  "My son. He's studying at Oxford for two semesters. He was worried about me. Isn't that sweet?"

  "Oh yeah. Sweet.” It was also a relief. Her son. If he was at Oxford, she must be older than she looked. All right. He was interested in an older woman. Interested. Though it still surprised him, he had to acknowledge it. He wanted to get to know Rebecca Mayfield very, very well. In every possible sense of the word. He hoped the road wouldn't be cleared for a good long time. He hoped...

  "So, Rebecca. Other kids, or just the one?” Might as well find out the lay of the land.

  "Just one. Stephen and I were busy with careers. One child was all I could take time for.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I know that probably sounds terrible, but it's true. Blaine is a wonderful young man, but that's mostly in spite of me. I'm not patient, and wasn't a very good mother, especially when he was young. Nurturing was never my forte."

  "You're probably being too hard on yourself there, especially if the kid turned out so well."

  "Mostly Stephen's doing. Really."

  "And Stephen is...?"

  "My husband. Late husband.” She looked away for a moment, then back, locking her gaze with David's. Was she daring him to look away? “Stephen died of a massive heart attack some time ago."

  "Oh. Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

  "It's fine. I'm fine with it, now. But at first it was excruciating. I blamed myself because I didn't make him go to the doctor more regularly. Or make certain he ate healthier foods, kept more reasonable hours. Both of us led that lifestyle, but for Stephen it turned out to be deadly. For me it's just ... Well.” She linked her fingers together and held them out, studying her nails. “Stephen and I were everything to each other. Friends, lovers, law partners, parents. Soul mates. And Blaine is determined to be just like his dad. He's a hard worker, and for his age he's already got an impressive list of accomplishments. He'll be a great attorney."

  "But?"

  "Yes. But I wonder if that's a good choice for him.

  "It's his choice."

  "Yes.” She looked away. “Yes, I know. But sometimes it's a hard life. The stress. Lately it's worn on me more than ever. I need to do better at dealing with it, my doctor tells me. I suppose I should get on that soon.” She pulled her feet up under her. “Since we're delving into personal lives, tell me about yours.” David wondered if maybe she'd been bothered by his questioning and wanted to turn the spotlight away. Or did she really want to know a little about him? He decided to keep it upbeat.

  "Personal life? Me? Don't really have one right now. Unless you'd like to start a new chapter for me.” That was a little bit charming wasn't it?

  "Ha.” She leaned her chin on one palm. “You're not dodging the question. I answered you. Now you just need to do the same for me. Why do you make everything so difficult?"

  David remembered asking her a similar question a while earlier.

  "Okay, turnabout is fair play and all that.” He took a deep breath. “I'm single. My wife Holly died five years ago. Drunk driver.” He saw Rebecca shiver in response. “So it's me. I'm it. We never had kids. Holly couldn't. She'd been sick when she was young. She told me long before we got married, in case I wanted to dump her because of that.” He chuckled. “We talked about adoption, but ... well, like you said, we were busy.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “At least I was busy, always working long hours and weekends, implementing my career plan. Holly had a more reasonable schedule. She wanted to have a couple of kids. She died when she was twenty-six. We thought there was plenty of time."

  She nodded. “Ah. I know what you mean. In the legal profession, we get caught up in putting out fires, don't we? It's so easy to postpone important things."

  He looked at her, and thought again about Holly's Christmas note to him. “And sometimes you don't realize what you're doing until it's too late."

  * * * *

  "Yes.” How awful for David to have lost his young wife that way. Rebecca thought of Stephen, how much she'd mourned him. She thought of Blaine, who was grown now, and doing well, thank goodness. She didn't want another real relationship, the kind with a shared address and more than one toothbrush in the holder. She missed Stephen, but knew better than to try to replace him. It would never happen. What should be important to Rebecca at this point was having a life of her own. She'd never had one of those, really.

  The fling with Gerald was already a non-event to her. He'd just been a way to kill time, she suddenly realized. Same for the two—or was it three?—others before Gerald. Those “relationships” had just been a way to avoid dealing with a future ... alone. And work was just work. She knew it, even though she'd thrown herself into the law practice as if it could save her soul.

  She wondered sometimes, especially in the last several months, if it were doing the opposite. No! This line of thought wasn't productive.
She really, really needed to get out of this cabin, away from this man who was causing her to think too much about some hard issues she had been so successfully avoiding.

  "So. About those snow shoes. Do you really have some?"

  "Snow shoes? Well, yes. They were left here by the previous owner. This old guy who sorta was a mountain man. But they're not any good. They're the old wooden kind, and the humidity got to ‘em. They're warped beyond repair. Sorry."

  She could see he wasn't sorry. She was certain he wasn't telling the entire truth either. What was up? Did he think she was too much of a wimp to walk a few miles in snow shoes? Not that she'd ever tried it. Not that she ever exercised beyond running for a cab or walking a few flights of stairs when an elevator broke. Fine. She was stuck here for the duration. Great.

  "Hm. Maybe it's just as well. If I'm here another day or so, at least it keeps me from what Midnight had planned."

  "Oh? And what was that?"

  "She had some guy she wanted to introduce me to. Ugh.” She shivered slightly. “I'm not interested. So I'm probably better off up here anyway. Good thing the snow shoes are ruined."

  "Hard for me to picture Midnight playing matchmaker. That doesn't sound like her. She's so level-headed."

  Rebecca noticed a trailing thread on the hem of the flannel shirt she was wearing, and started to pull at it. “Not when it comes to relationships. Not really."

  "Oh?"

  She glared up at him for a second. “Sorry. That's all I can say."

  "Attorney-client privilege."

  "I didn't say that.” The thread got longer and longer as she tugged.

  "You didn't have to say it. I figured it out. You were her divorce lawyer, I bet. Yeah, you have the temperament."

  "Just what does that mean?"

  "Oh, not much. Just thinking ‘shark.’ The good ones are like sharks. You just happen to be well-disguised. I'll bet you're hell in the courtroom, though.” He linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back.

  "Yes, I'm hell in the courtroom. It's what I do. And I do it extremely well. Everyone in the City knows it, in fact. Important people come to me to represent them in their divorces. Important people who don't want to hire me come in and pay for a consultation so I'll have a conflict of interest and not be able to represent their spouse. I'm just that good. You have a problem?” She stared at him, daring him to say yes. Why did she suddenly feel the need to defend her livelihood to this guy?

  "Hey! Stop pulling that thread. You're gonna take the hem out of the shirt. Don't you know if you keep pulling, the whole thing will fall apart?"

  Rebecca let go of the thread and stared at David. Don't you know if you keep pulling, the whole thing will fall apart? That's pretty much what was happening in her life. She kept pulling, kept doing the same thing over and over, and her life did seem to be unraveling. Blaine loved her, but he was glad to be away from her. The employees and associate attorneys tolerated her because she paid them well. She had few friends, none of whom she could count on except Midnight Shelby McClain.

  What a revelation. She desperately hated her life.

  David's voice was softer when he spoke next. “Hey. Don't look like that. I'm not saying anything terrible about your work. There's a place in the world for it. If that's what you do, and you can still sleep nights, my hat's off to you, Rebecca."

  She jumped up, making certain her posture was perfect so she was every inch of her diminutive height. “I don't care about your hat, David McClain. I think you know where you can put it, and your opinion."

  She stomped, another ineffective move in stocking feet, into the kitchen just to get out of his sight. What a holier-than-thou jerk. Probably had some little courtroom in Podunk, Tennessee, hearing small claims cases all day long. What did he know about the real practice of law? What did he know about the stress, and the long hours, and the fact that you don't get to have a personal life—not a real one—because every single day lasts forever and you're always preparing the next case to be ready for whatever the other side is going to throw at you? What could David Mountainman Boyscout McClain know about any of it?

  Rebecca paced the tiny kitchen, her hands balled into fists so tight her fingernails dug into her palms. Being snowbound in a cabin with a tall, dark, handsome, delicious ... being snowbound with a guy should be sweet and romantic, at the very least. The man was a hunk, pure and simple. When he tried, he could even be pleasant to talk with. So why did he have to pick at her?

  But maybe she'd been a smidge unpleasant too. Perhaps if she mellowed out a little bit, so would he. They could get to know each other. It had been going well for a little while when they'd talked about Stephen and Holly, after all. That seemed a good start. So maybe if both of them tried a little harder...

  But why try? She'd soon be out of here, and they'd never see each other again. She remembered the figures she'd seen in the fireplace flames. Maybe just a little something in a mountain cabin wouldn't be distasteful to either of them. Maybe, just to pass the time, or conserve warmth, or whatever excuse, they should get a little bit cozy...

  Rebecca put a palm to her head and realized all this sophomoric conjecture was giving her a headache.

  I want out of here, and now. I can't stand to be cooped up with him any longer!

  She yanked open the door to the garage and tried to see inside. There were some small windows but not much light coming through them. She could make out the general shape of the caved-in roof on top of a dark vehicle. His Jeep, he'd said. It was cold and damp in there too, as the snow had come in. There really was no getting away in his vehicle.

  Did she want to go because of what he'd said? Because he'd hit so close to home? Because he knew her better than he realized, even though he didn't know her at all?

  "Hey. You're letting the cold in.” His voice was soft and near. When she didn't answer, he walked over and stood next to her, quietly closed the door. She wished he would touch her. “Rebecca. You can't drive to Midnight's in my Jeep. It's not moving any time soon."

  "I can see that. I'm not stupid."

  "Of course you're not. Suddenly you're angry, though, and I'm not sure just why. Couldn't be that ‘shark’ comment, could it? Surely you're not that thin-skinned."

  No, she usually wasn't. She looked him straight in the eye, to stare him down, which for some reason often worked with big men. “A polite host wouldn't call his house guest by a derogatory term. I think ‘shark’ would qualify as derogatory."

  One of his dark brows arched at the statement. He crossed his strong arms and seemed to consider, all the while holding her eyes with his. “Hm. Maybe not. A polite host also might not jerk all the clothes off his house guest and wrap her in a down comforter to avoid hypothermia, either. Or let her sleep in the warmest place in the cabin, right by the fire, while he took the cold bedroom and icy sheets. What do you want, Rebecca? A polite host, or me?"

  Shocked, Rebecca found herself at a loss for words. How horrible to realize she'd almost blurted out, “You” in answer to his silly question.

  "There's an awful lot of tension in here right now,” he said softly. “You know what would take care of that?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Six

  Rebecca thought she might know exactly what could relieve the tension. She could think of several different ways they could go about it, too. Mmm. If only he were interested. She hoped her desire didn't show on her face. In the courtroom, she was known for her ability to keep her facial expression under control at all times. But right now, she didn't feel under control. She felt a bit under David McClain's spell, and it frightened her.

  "I think what we need here, to help us de-stress a little bit, is to get things back where we were a few minutes ago. Let's not talk about work. I think that got us both riled up.” Slowly, gently, David took her small hand in his big one and held it lightly so she could pull back if she chose. “We left work back in the City, right?"

  She nodded, enjoying th
e soft Southern sound of his voice. Hoping to hear him say something sweet.

  "It's just you and me here. No big fancy office or tufted leather chairs or tall judge's bench.” He took her other hand and squeezed a little. “Just the two of us. So, if there's something you'd rather do instead of fighting, just say the word."

  No. She couldn't just say the word. The word she'd been thinking a few minutes ago was sex. And then she realized, as David took her hands and held them so gently, reverently even, that maybe there could be something else here if the two of them let it have a chance. David McClain was not Stephen. But more importantly, he was not Gerald. She couldn't imagine having a physical-only relationship with David. Physical, yes. Yes! And soon would be very, very good.

  But it couldn't be only physical. David was a man who cared about people, who loved deeply. Such a man wouldn't be interested in a fling. Such a man would expect more. Like commitment.

  And that was a word Rebecca had shied away from for a long while.

  "Rebecca? You in there?” He leaned down and peered into her eyes, then kissed the tip of her nose. It was not erotic. A nose-tip kiss was just silly, not at all arousing. So she slid her hands up his arms and used them to balance herself, then stood on tiptoe and nipped his chin. Just a small nip. With maybe a little bitty lick. Just to be silly back at him, really. It was not very much of a tease, unless he wanted to take it that way.

  Evidently he did, because he leaned down and captured her mouth with his. Rebecca's eyes flew open in shock, surprise, and happiness. Yum! David was delicious. She'd had a suspicion he would be...

  They suddenly heard the approach of a very loud vehicle.

  Groaning, David pulled back from her and went quickly to a front window. “Great. I may have to kill him."

  Rebecca joined him at the window and was amazed to see a Hummer pulling up toward the cabin. A handsome man drove it, with a big smile on his face.

  "My brother Joe. Basically a nice guy. I never noticed how horrible his timing is, though. Let me just yell out the door at him to go away for a few days."