by Erin Wright
Finally, his heart rate slowed down just a tad, and he could hear again. Stetson was checking Jennifer over, and she was telling him she was fine, nothing was wrong, and then he’d start all over again. God, he’d turned into a real mother hen since she got pregnant.
Hold on. Bonnie? Where’s Bonnie?
He straightened and scanned the area until his eyes fell on her, sitting on a rock above the snowline, staring off to the mountains. He pushed through the snow.
“How ya doing?” His voice came out more gruff than he’d intended but he couldn’t take it back now.
“Okay,” she said but the shake in her voice belied her answer and he slipped behind her, wrapping an arm awkwardly around her shoulders, even occasionally patting her on the head when he thought of it. She didn’t say anything for a long time, and then finally, “Thanks, Luke. And…thanks for saving us. I don’t normally get picked up and toted around by a guy on Christmas Eve, so, you know, bonus points for originality.”
He could hear the smile in her voice, and he struggled to come up with something to help her completely take her mind off what just happened.
Just then, he saw a tan and black form turn its majestic head to stare at him. A pair of piercing yellow eyes blinked.
“Look,” he whispered, pointing at the owl. “It’s a great horned owl.” She followed his arm to find the owl amongst the trees, its browns and tans blending into the scenery so perfectly, it was only its movement that made it possible to spot it.
“Oh…” she breathed softly. “I’ve never seen one in real life before.”
“C’mon, Luke!” Stetson hollered. “We need to figure out how to pull this pine tree back to the truck.”
The owl took off, wings flapping silently through the air, and Bonnie gave a moan of disappointment at its disappearance.
Luke pulled away and headed to Stetson, pretending that he didn’t care that Stetson had interrupted their birdwatching adventures. That he hadn’t been enjoying the flowery scent that had wafted up from Bonnie’s hair and into his nose. That he hadn’t been aware of her soft curves pressed against his body.
He heard Sticks thrashing through the underbrush and then a small flock of birds taking to flight as he scared them away. Luke rolled his eyes at his goofy dog. If Sticks thought he could catch a bird, he was in for a world of disappointment.
Together, Stetson and Luke worked to jerry-rig some straps and dragged the tree back to the truck, chests heaving by time they got there. The cold air was burning in Luke’s lungs after they finally got the tree loaded and strapped down. They secured the axes and then Stetson called out, “Hey, we’re ready to go!”
Jennifer waded through the snow towards the truck. “Carmelita packed a lunch for us, with a hot thermos of coffee and everything. Why don’t we stay out here and eat?”
Luke was taken aback. She wanted to just…sit out here? And do nothing but eat and hang out? That was so…unproductive. Didn’t they need to hurry back to the Miller Farm and feed the animals or plan next year’s crops or something?
And then he remembered that this whole weekend was supposed to be nothing but relaxing and having fun. It was such an odd thought, he had to force himself not to ask that they let him head back to his farm right then. He had about a half dozen projects in the barn that he could stand to spend some time on, and just hanging out was…pointless.
But dammit, he’d agreed — no, been shanghaied into — this weekend, and he wasn’t about to be rude to Jennifer, even if Stetson probably deserved it. She’d think she’d done something to piss him off, and he didn’t want to make a pregnant woman get all sniffly and emotional on him.
Or any female at all, come to think of it.
Everyone began digging into the two picnic baskets that Carmelita had filled to the brim and as Luke began to suck down the beef stew, balanced on a rock as he ate, he began to question why it was he hadn’t hired a Carmelita of his own. He and ol’ Willie swapped cooking duties for dinner, and he wasn’t sure which he hated more — eating ol’ Willie’s burnt food, or the nights where he was in charge of cooking. At this point, it was kind of a toss-up.
Sticks found a stick — finally, something he could catch — and flopped down in the snow, happily chewing his way through it, content as a bear in a honeypot.
“What’s your dog’s name?” Bonnie asked.
“Sticks,” Luke said.
She burst into laughter.
“Listen, if you haven’t thought of a name for him yet, you don’t have to pick one right now,” she said drily, once she stopped laughing.
“No, really, that’s his name. Three guesses as to why I named him that, and the first two don’t count.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Sticks? You’re an original fellow, aren’t you?”
“One of a kind,” he drawled and winked at her. She laughed again, and he realized that he really liked hearing that sound.
A lot.
And that scared him.
A lot.
Chapter Six
~Bonnie~
They tumbled into the house, laughing and unwrapping their scarves and pulling off their gloves as they went.
“Carmelita, we’re home!” Jennifer called. Bonnie’s nose twitched.
Is that…gingerbread cookies? Oh God, I’ve died and gone to heaven!
They wandered through the house, looking for Carmelita, and finally found her in the living room, surrounded by boxes, Christmas music playing softly in the background. She wiped quickly at her face and Bonnie realized that she’d been crying.
“Mis hijos, how was your trip?” she asked, quickly standing up and brushing at her skirt. Her perfectly clean skirt.
What is she so upset about? Bonnie’s heart hurt at the idea of this kindly woman enduring sadness of any kind.
“Great,” Stetson said. “Luke and I are going to bring in the tree, but I wanted to make sure we knew where the stand was for it before we lugged it in.”
“Oh yes, I have placed it by the window already. It is ready for your tree.” And there it was, directly in front of the large window overlooking the backyard. The window was going to frame the Christmas tree perfectly — a picture-perfect Christmas card in the making.
Stetson and Luke drug the tree in, with only a minimal amount of mumbled swearing and after a few more choice words, they got the tree stabilized and water into its base. Everyone stood back to admire the tree before they got to work on the ornaments.
It was then that Bonnie realized why Carmelita had been sniffly when they came in. The Christmas decorations coming out of the box were not standard Target ornaments. They appeared to be handmade antiques.
“Oh Stetson, this is so beautiful,” Jennifer breathed, pulling a tarnished silver ornament out of the box, the arms of it twinkling between the tarnished sections.
Carmelita said quietly, “That was one of the ornaments that your great-great-grandparents brought with them across the United States, Stetson.”
“Where did you find these?” Stetson asked, cradling the ornament in his hands.
“I went up into the attic today while you were getting the tree, and found these boxes. After your mother passed away,” she made the sign of the cross, “your father asked me to pack them away. I knew you did not remember them, and I wanted to surprise you. My Christmas gift to you.”
He stood from the couch and moved to her side. “Thank you, Carma,” he whispered. Bonnie couldn’t help it; she felt her eyes prick with tears. The love between them was palpable.
“If only Wyatt and Declan were here to see them, too,” she said, stepping away, straightening her skirt and smoothing it again, fiddling, hiding her emotions, staring out the window as if the most fascinating play ever conceived was being put on the backyard in that very moment.
“Now Carmelita, we both know that isn’t possible,” Stetson said, exasperation filling his voice. “Wyatt couldn’t come even if he wanted to, and even if he could, I wouldn’t want
him here. He has a lot of growing up to do, and Declan needs to stop defending him.”
“I know,” she said, her voice laced with pain. “I cannot stop wishing all of my boys to love each other, though.” She paused for just a moment and then said, “I will go get polish for the ornaments.” She hurried from the room.
The silence filled the room, with only Bing Crosby’s voice daring to croon in their ears:
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Jennifer gave a strained smile to Bonnie. “Come check out this wonderful treasure, Bonnie. It puts all Walmart decorations to shame.” Bonnie hurried over and ooohhh’d and awwww’d over the delicate antique angel, with a yellowed dress and an ever-so-slightly crooked golden halo hovering above its head.
The music changed to a slightly more upbeat song — Wonderful Christmas Time — and soon, they were laughing again. Luke draped a twine garland with red bobbles hanging off it around his neck, striking a pose by the tree as he did so. Bonnie laughed until her belly ached and Jennifer polished the silver ornaments and Carmelita brought in trays of gingerbread cookies and coffee and milk and Stetson and Luke argued about who was the tallest and thus had the honor of putting the angel on the top of the tree and the music played, and Bonnie felt a kind of peace and love that she thought only existed in movies. Cheesy movies.
But sitting there, the twinkling lights of the tree, watching the antics of her friends, she realized that even without her family there, she could still love Christmas. Luke won the battle and after placing the angel on top of the tree, he climbed down from the dining room chair and smiled triumphantly at Bonnie. She couldn’t hide the smile that spread across her features and then…his eyes darkened and her breath quickened and she blushed and her gaze dropped to her lap.
She hurried to push the next piece of popcorn onto the needle and down the garland that she was supposed to be making and then she felt the couch shift as Luke sat down. He popped some popcorn into his mouth and said, “Look at me, helping out! Now you don’t have to string that popcorn!”
She laughed while rolling her eyes. “Yes, your help is overwhelming me,” she said drily. “I just don’t know how to handle it.”
“Here, how about this?” he asked, and placed a piece of popcorn at her lips. Her breath hitched and she opened her mouth automatically and he placed the piece inside gently, and then…
Did he just brush his fingertips against my lips?
She bit her bottom lip, staring into his dreamy dark chocolate eyes and she wasn’t sure she would ever breathe again, and then…
The rafters shook and the window panes rattled and a wind tore through the pine trees outside like the howling of an angry god.
“What the—!” Stetson exclaimed, putting the ornament down that he was working on and rushing to the window. Everyone followed, staring out into the darkness.
The darkness only broken up by the snowflakes drifting to the ground as far as the eye could see.
Chapter Seven
~Luke~
He’d been staring at Bonnie’s lips, having the most amazing daydream ever, where he was envisioning kissing her and running his fingers through her lush, dark hair, and then…
The damn weather hit. And hit hard. He stared out into the semi-darkness, white snowflakes dancing in the wind, whipping into dizzying circles, dropping to the ground only to be sucked back up again, and realized that the weather report calling for only an inch of snow could not possibly be right.
Stetson reached that conclusion at the same time Luke did. Their eyes met and he knew Stets was thinking the same thing he was — they had to figure out an emergency plan now, before the electricity cut off and they were all up a shit creek without any preparations for it.
“Darlin’,” Stetson said, guiding Jennifer out of the living room and to the base of the stairs, “we need to gather up blankets, flashlights, pillows, sweaters, matches, candles — whatever you might think we would need if the lights go out. Bonnie, would you go with her?” Bonnie nodded and hurried up the stairs after Jennifer.
Luke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Ol’ Willie. He wanted to be sure he was ready to cover the farm. With a blizzard brewing, who knew how long it’d be before Luke could make it back home.
“Hey,” Ol’ Willie said, cranky as always.
“Hey, we seem to be on the receiving end of a major storm here at Stetson’s place. How’s it look on the farm?”
“Wind’s kicked up and can’t see for shit outside — visibility done disappeared. Don’t you worry ‘bout us. I already done strung a line from the house to the barn, so I can keep them horses fed no matter. Best you don’t come on home — this damn box canyon just makes the snowstorms worse. Not safe to drive now. You’d land your ass in the barrow pit.”
Luke knew he was right, but it was hard to sit on the sidelines. He’d never been away from his farm during a major snowstorm, and was usually the one to string the rope from the corner of the house to the barn so he could move between the buildings even in zero visibility and keep the horses fed no matter what. Knowing that Ol’ Willie had thought to do that without being asked made him more appreciative than ever to have hired such a reliable employee.
Especially since his employer had been busy making kissy faces with a girl…
“Well, keep me updated if you can — if the phone lines stay active. I’m gonna help Stetson batten down the hatches.”
“Yup,” Ol’ Willie said, and then the line went dead. Most other people might think that he was angry or pissed about something to end a conversation that way, but Luke wasn’t offended. Ol’ Willie just wasn’t much for wasting time with social niceties like “hello” and “goodbye.”
Carmelita came in from the kitchen, worry etched into her face.
“That wind did not sound so good,” she said, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Was the weatherman wrong about this storm?”
Stetson was looking on his phone. “Looks like it — the Weather Channel is saying that this has been upgraded to a full-blown blizzard. They’re estimating anywhere between six inches to two feet of snow by time it passes.”
Luke gulped. Even for Long Valley, that was a lot of snow to fall in one storm.
Another gust of wind buffeted the house and the lights flickered. The achingly cheerful Christmas music continued to play in the background; unable to handle it anymore, Luke turned off the stereo system. Now was not the time to sing along to White Christmas.
“Stetson, I need my heart medicine,” Carmelita said, her hand on his arm, staring up into his face. “Maybe you should take me to my house now. I need to find my flashlight and blankets before the power dies.”
“No, you should stay here with us,” Jennifer said, entering the room with her arms heaping with blankets. Luke wondered how she could even see over the stack. Bonnie trailed behind her with an equally large stack of pillows in her arms. “Stetson can go get your heart medicine and bring it back here. Then we only need to worry about keeping one home warm and safe.”
Carmelita hesitated for a moment and then nodded, acquiescing to the wisdom of this plan, but said emphatically, “I must go with you. It is too hard to explain everything that I need.” She hurried to wrap up in her coat and scarf as the winds continued to howl around the farmhouse, whistling through the trees, shaking the window panes as it roared past.
Sticks, content up to that point to a chew on a bone in the corner — Carmelita had refused to let him bring a stick inside — suddenly made his presence known when he began whining. He started trying to wedge himself underneath the couch, the far end bouncing up and down as Sticks wiggled his way to the back until only his tail was sticking out.
Wimp. Luke couldn’t help loving his goofy-ass dog, even if he was damn worthless for just about anything but chewing up sticks.
Everyone just stared at the
couch, one end of it hovering about six inches off the ground, and then Bonnie said drily, “Well, no sitting on the couch for a while.”
The smiles appeared for just a moment, and then disappeared as everyone sprung into action. Luke set to work filling up pots with water, since the well didn’t work without electricity to pump the water out of the ground. Jennifer and Bonnie went back to work to find candles and flashlights and matches. Sticks continued whining, because that’s what he was best at, and Stetson and Carmelita took off for her small white cottage. It was about 25 feet off from the house, although Luke was all too aware that 25 feet might as well be a universe away when you couldn’t see. He was sure Stetson would take good care of Carma, though, and get them both back to the house safely.
After Luke filled every pot and bowl he could find, he headed for the back porch, where the firewood was stacked against the outside wall. He’d refill the firewood nook under the stairs in the living room. Stetson’s natural gas heater relied on electricity to keep the pilot light lit and to run the fan that blew the hot air around, so as soon as the electricity went out — which was a when, not an if at this point — so did the heat.
He was about two-thirds of the way done when everything went dark.
Dammit.
He kept hauling the firewood in the semi-darkness of the house, wanting to get as much firewood inside as possible to minimize the number of times they’d need to open up the back door and let the heat escape out of the house. Once he had the firewood nook filled to the brim, he started stacking it in the fireplace. A fire in the fireplace would serve as a three-fold bonus at this point: Heat, light, and security. There was something peaceful about the crackling of a fire that would soothe everyone’s nerves.
Once he’d filled the fireplace with some smaller pieces and set some large logs on the hearth off to the side, to feed into the fire once it was established, he set to work on getting the fire going. He’d done all he could at this point to ready the house; it was time for him to make sure everyone stayed nice and warm.
