by Piper Stone
She reached over, her actions apprehensive, then patted his arm. “Thank you for your kindness. If you don’t mind, I would like to close my eyes for a few minutes.”
Dawson opened his eyes wide and nodded. “Hold on. Let me grab something.”
Shrinking into the seat, she studied the almost white out conditions, the truck’s headlights barely illuminating the deserted road.
He reached behind him, pulling a pillow to the front. “This might make you feel more comfortable. I’ll need to stop for gas and I’ll wake you then, but you just rest now and think of Santa Claus and his reindeer. They’ll help bring your smokejumper home. I guarantee it.”
She placed the pillow against the window and leaned against. Exhausted and listless, her heavy eyelids closed, and she smiled as images of Santa and his flying reindeer danced in front of her. Maybe she should believe in miracles. Life was so precious.
As she drifted off to sleep, she could swear her angel trucker was singing.
“I’ll be home for Christmas…”
“Time to open your packages,” Stoker said, his face beaming.
“You’ve bought me too much already,” Jessica purred as she crossed her legs, scooting closer to the Christmas tree. She laughed as MacGyver trampled over her, dragging out a present from under the tree.
“He knows his gifts.” The words were said proudly.
“He’s such a baby. Come here, Mr. Wiggles. There’s plenty of toys under this tree.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in, enjoying every moment.
“Open it. Come on.”
As she fingered the festive bow, knowing there was no way he’d wrapped the precious gift, she started to cry…
“Miss Dunn?”
Jessica opened her eyes. Who was calling her?
“Miss Dunn? We’re making a stop.”
The voice was a deep baritone, soft and comforting. She jerked up. “Stoker!”
“No, ma’am. Just Dawson. I gotta get gas and it might be the last time you can get a drink or go to the ladies’ room. If ya need, I mean.”
She rubbed her eyes as the horrid realization shifted back into her mind. “Dawson. Where are we?” The sky was darker, but the snow continued to fall.
“A couple hours outside of Missoula. Took me longer to get here than expected. Roads are ice patches.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Hours. You needed the sleep. Come on. Why don’t we get something hot to drink?”
Somehow, she made it into the truck stop, shivering the entire way. She stood inside the brightly lit area, holding her arms as she processed what had occurred. Her hands were almost numb from the walk alone and she struggled to tug her phone from her pocket. The moment she pressed the button, she moaned. Her battery was almost dead, let alone there was almost no reception. She had to try. She had to know if there was any news.
Jessica paced the floor as she dialed and redialed Shannon’s number. Finally, the call was connected. She stood still as the phone rang, the sound choppy as the reception moved in and out.
“Jes…ca.”
“Shannon. Can you hear me?” A single crackling turned into a long hiss. “Shannon!”
“Here. You okay?
“I’m fine. What about Stoker. Any news?”
“He’s—”
The call died, and Jessica shook her phone. “Please. Please.” After two retries, she gave up and went to find a bathroom. Two hours to Missoula. She would be home soon.
She made her way back to the truck and hunkered over until Dawson arrived.
“I didn’t know if you had any money. I took the liberty of getting you some hot chocolate and a sandwich. You need to eat.”
“I’m fine.”
He looked over as he shoved the key into the ignition. “I know better. Seen my wife this way twice. Eat. I’ll get you there as soon as possible.”
“I appreciate it.” This way? Terrified and nearly looney?
“We’re almost there. Eat.”
No food would ever taste good.
He turned the key.
Rrrr…
“Shit!” Dawson exclaimed. “Damn rig.”
“No. No! We have to get there.”
“She’s cranky, like me. We’ll give her a second. That’s all she needs.”
Jessica held the cocoa in her hands and rocked forward and backward.
“Tell me about him.”
“Stoker?”
“Your man.”
“He’s dangerous and loving. He’ll give you the shirt off his back. He loves animals and he’s…” She laughed. “He’s stubborn and refuses to listen. He was a marine and was captured. He thought he was the cause for his best friend getting injured. That changed him. He’s full of life but also anger. And I love him.” The last words were little more than a whisper.
Dawson exhaled and turned the key. The engine roared to life. “See? Magic. Let’s get you home.”
At ten-thirty on December 23rd, Dawson pulled the big rig up the long driveway, parking in front of Stoker’s cabin.
“Oh my God. There are lights on. He’s here. He’s safe.” Bounding out of the cab, she tripped, falling into the snow as she struggled to get to the door. Tingling all over, she pushed her way to her feet as the sound of Mac barking inside became the best Christmas music she’d ever heard. “Stoker!” Throwing open the door, she raced inside, leaving the door open.
Woof! Woof!
Mac jumped and licked, barking in his excitement.
“Baby boy. I’m home. Where’s your daddy? Stoker!” She tried to push Mac off, but he was having none of it. “Stoker!” She laughed as he pawed her coat, her arms, his licks becoming nips. Tears ran down her face as she managed to take one and then another step toward the kitchen. Hearing footsteps, she moaned.
“Jessica.” Shannon walked out of the kitchen, her face ashen, her eyes filled with tears.
In those few seconds, Jessica’s world stopped. “No!”
“Wait. We don’t know anything. No Stoker. No Landen. Come here, girl.” Shannon rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Jessica. “Who the hell is this?”
Jessica fell into the hug, the tears continuing to fall. “Dawson. This can’t be happening.”
“I’m sorry. Just wanted to bring your things inside,” he said quietly. “If you don’t mind me asking. Any news about Stoker?”
“Nothing.” Pushing away, she shook her head, nodding to her friend. “Thank you so much for bringing me home. Please, come inside and get warm. Stay tonight. You can’t be driving in this.”
“I got to get home to my family. I hope you understand.” Dawson set her bags by the door but walked forward, her guitar in his hand. “I wanted to make certain this was safe.”
Jessica walked toward him and the moment she placed her hand on the handle, she slapped her arm around him. “Thank you. You truly are my angel.”
“Dawson. Stay just to get warm. I’ll get you some coffee to go?” Shannon asked as she moved to close the door.
Mac rubbed his face against Dawson’s legs, whining as his tail wagged.
Dawson grinned. “Mighty obliged. Hot coffee sounds good.”
“I’ll get some and wine. We need wine.” Shannon moved toward the kitchen.
Jessica turned in a full circle until her eyes locked on the bare Christmas tree, the packages nestled underneath. “Oh, God.” Tearing off her coat, she rushed toward the most beautiful tree on earth, dropping to her knees. Beautifully wrapped packages in gold and silver, red and green had been carefully placed under the tree. She fingered the red velvet, laughing as the tears continued to fall. Stoker had tried to think of everything.
“Beautiful house,” Dawson said from a distance.
“Stoker’s. We share this beautiful place together, or at least we did.”
“Don’t you go talkin’ like that. It’s almost Christmas Eve. Remember what I said to you,” he admonished.
“Your angel is right.
No news at this point is good news.” Shannon walked back into the room, carrying a thermos and two glasses of wine. She offered the coffee then stood behind Jessica. “You need to know something.”
“I can’t hear any more bad news. Not right now.”
“This is wonderful, honey. Please listen to me.” Shannon’s voice was imploring. “This has been the only thing keeping me sane these last couple of days.”
Jessica sat down on the floor, accepting the wine as Shannon told a story of generosity and love, charity and giving and by the time she’d finished, the room was quiet. Stunned, she leaned over, holding her stomach. “Oh, my baby. Please come back to me.”
“Honey, he will. Have faith.”
Dawson finally cleared his throat. “This town is very lucky to have people like you. That little boy is going to live and so is Stoker.”
There was nothing else to be said.
“Thank you for the coffee. I best be on my way.” Dawson petted Mac’s head before heading for the door. He stopped and looked down, his eyes twinkling. “I’m not much of a praying man, but I don’t have to tonight. I just know. Believe, Jessica Dunn. Believe.”
“Thank you, Dawson. Merry Christmas.”
When the door was closed, Shannon fell to her knees. “Oh, honey. I miss Landen so much, but I can feel him in my heart. I can. I just…” Her words trailed off as she sobbed.
They held each other for several minutes, allowing the tears to flow.
Jessica eased back and wiped her eyes, determined to help them both get through this. “Shannon. There’s so much I need to tell you.”
As the bright sun streamed in through the front window, Jessica opened her eyes. Turning over, a brush of something against her face made her inhale. Pine needles. She looked up and realized she’d fallen asleep underneath the tree. Stretching, she slid out and sat up, glancing around the room. The fire had died down and there was a distinct chill in the air. But the cold she felt, dipping into her bones, was from fear of significant loss. She noticed Shannon still sleeping on the couch, MacGyver snoozing by the front door. Even the pup knew so many things were terribly wrong.
Shifting around, she glanced up at the tree, noticing a small envelope and could just make out her name, penned in red ink. All she had to do was reach up and grab the note. Her fingers shaking, she opened the envelope, pulling out the single sheet of paper.
“If you’re reading this, you know what I’m trying to do. You should see the little boy. So precious. I love you, Jessica Dunn, with all my heart and this will be our best Christmas.”
As she read the remaining words, she suddenly felt a moment of pure peace, as if a light was shining down through the misery. Clamoring to her feet, she rushed toward Shannon, shaking her friend’s shoulder. “Get up. We have to get dressed.”
“What? What’s going on?” Shannon moaned as she blinked and shielded her eyes. “Did you hear from Stoker?” She grabbed her phone, as if expecting to see a call from Landen. “Nothing. He hasn’t called.”
“Yes. No. Well, I know where Stoker is going to be. Come on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to take a shower. Then we have to go. Time is running out!” She clapped her hands, a knowing settling inside. “Come on! Put some coffee on. He left me a note!” Giddy, she trotted into their bedroom, yanking out drawers until she found a pair of jeans and a sweater. This was a new beginning.
Emerging minutes later, she raced back into the living room, jumping up and down. “Shannon. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Shannon eyed her warily as she inched out of the kitchen, a coffee cup in her hand.
“Didn’t you read the note?”
“That he’s going to meet you at the tree lot? That was written days ago. I know you want to believe but I just don’t know any longer.”
Jessica held her tongue. “Have faith in Landen. He’s as strong as Stoker. Both of them are going to come home. We have to go. Ten minutes, so if you want to change.”
“I need to feed Jace, let him out. I need… Hell, I don’t know what I need. Maybe a stiff drink.” Shannon rubbed her forehead. “He just can’t be gone.”
“He’s not and neither is Stoker. We’ll go get Jace when his daddy is home.” She held her breath, anxiety filtering into her system. This had to be true.
“You’re really going to the lot?”
“Yep.” When Shannon narrowed her eyes, she laughed. “Stoker said to meet him there. Noon today. He will be there. Landen will be there. Trust me.”
Shannon’s expression remained pensive as she walked closer. “Honey, I don’t think there’s any news.”
“I know in my gut. Dawson said to believe in Christmas magic and I am. Damn it.”
“You shouldn’t get yourself worked up like this. Maybe we just have to face facts.”
“I’m not worked up!” She bit her lip and looked down at Mac. “I know in my heart. He will be there. Okay? Let me do this. You need to do this. Landen is alive and so is Stoker.”
Hesitating, Shannon sighed then nodded. “Okay, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Yes! I’ll get the truck warmed up. Meet you out front.”
“You said ten minutes.”
“I lied!” Grabbing her coat, Jessica opened the door, breathing in the crisp air. This was going to be the best Christmas of her life. She grabbed the keys off the hook by the front door and walked outside. “Stoker Hansen. I love you!”
Pulling the truck to the front of the cabin, she beeped the horn and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re going to find daddy, Mac.” A minute later, Shannon walked outside, climbing into the passenger seat. “Hold on. I’m getting us there in time.”
“Honey, I made a few calls. You need to listen to me.”
“No, you need to listen to me. Stoker will be there. He’s never broken a promise. Don’t you understand?” Huffing, she jerked the gear into drive.
Shannon huddled in the seat beside her, her hand firmly clenched on the edge of the dashboard. “Jess, you have to listen to the news.”
“Nope.”
“They’re giving up the search.” Choking, she lowered her head into her hands, soft sobs slipping from her lips.
The words hit her hard, yet Jessica refused to believe. She envisioned Stoker’s face, his gorgeous eyes. Gripping Shannon’s arm, she shook her friend. “No. We are not doing this. Not now. Okay?”
Sighing, she sniffed then clasped her seat belt. “And what if they’re right?”
“They aren’t! I just know it. He’s alive. He’s coming home. They’re all coming home.” Jessica leaned over the steering wheel as she drove, heading for the tree lot. The card had told her everything she needed to hear. His words were his Christmas gift, a very special present.
“Jessica. Stop.” Shannon placed her hand on Jessica’s arm.
“Don’t. I refuse to believe it. Allow me this. Allow me to have some joy right now.”
After a few seconds, Shannon spoke. “I don’t want either of us hurt right now. Not like this.”
“I’m fine. We’re fine. Just believe with me.”
The drive took over thirty minutes, ten minutes before Stoker said he would be at the lot, waiting for her. He was waiting for her to come home. As she pulled into the lot and parked, a second reality set in. What if she was wrong?
“We sold every tree. Every single one, except for one saved for the family. The whole bar got together, manning the lot, making certain what Stoker started was finished. I have so much food and toys for the family. And money. My God, the amount of money. It’s amazing and wonderful.”
“What he did was so…” There were no words, no sentiment that could explain what her heart was feeling.
“I know. The whole town knows. We’ll take everything to the Michaels’ family later today. Okay?”
“No, Stoker and I will take everything to them. That’s what Stoker wants.” Jessica shut down the engine
and opened the door, smiling as Mac bounded outside. The air remained bitterly cold, but the sun was bright in the sky. She closed the door and walked toward the various poles, fingering several as she envisioned the number of trees that the team had cut down in order to save the forest. Lights hung down, wires covered in snow, and even unlit, they were some of the most gorgeous decorations she’d ever seen.
“You have no idea how much work they put into this.”
“I think I do. He wanted to please me, say he was sorry. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Shannon flanked her side. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Yes, I do. I took our relationship for granted. No more. Never again.” Sniffing, she willed the tears to remain far away. This was a time for celebration, joy. She glanced at her watch. “He should be here anytime.”
“I hope so. Dear God, I hope so.”
Five minutes turned into ten, then thirty, then an hour.
“Jess, you’re freezing,” Shannon said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!” Jessica snapped as she turned her head. “I am and I’ll wait as long as it takes. No matter what time of day or night.”
Recoiling, Shannon walked toward the truck.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her friend dialing her phone. No doubt checking for any news. Stoker wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t die. Not like this. Another fifteen minutes passed, and Shannon remained on her phone, pacing back and forth.
Jessica watched the cars going back and forth, some slowing down as if wondering whether there were any trees left to sell. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she walked through what had been the line of trees, imagining the boys selling, laughing as they tried to become vendors. How she would have liked to see them in action. When she strolled back, Shannon was out of sight. Maybe she’d walked over to Ziggy’s or to get a cup of coffee.
The wind kicked up, sending a wafting scent of pine in her direction. She drank in the sweet perfume and watched MacGyver romping in the snow. She reached out for him, longing for a warm touch, a sweet lick. A wave of nausea roared into her stomach and she doubled over, stumbling toward the truck. He wasn’t coming. He was gone. Lost.
