by Deb Rotuno
Swallowing thickly, I nodded. It was one thing to hear these things from Derek or Tina, even Hank, but to hear it out of my son’s mouth was heartbreaking. I finally pulled him to me, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“You took amazing care of each other, son,” I whispered in his ear. “Never think you didn’t.”
“I told her you’d be mad if we gave up.”
Grinning, I nodded. “I might have been. You never know. Though, I can’t see either of you giving up. Both of you are way too stubborn.”
He chuckled. “Mom says you’re the stubborn one.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I smiled. “Maybe.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but it fell away quickly when the beautiful doe stepped into the clearing. She was twitchy, cautious, but healthy and strong.
“This is on you, Freddie,” I whispered as quietly as I could in his ear as he readied his rifle. “Remember to aim for just behind the shoulder…” I caught sight of Dad and Derek across the way. We’d already made the decision to let Freddie take the first shot. Should he miss, we’d back him up. Dad gave me silent hand signals, telling me to go for it but that Derek had a shot as well.
Freddie aimed, and I could see his nerves, so I leaned back to his ear. “Deep breath; let it out slowly. Relax. If you miss, Derek’s got your back. But I don’t think you will. You so got this, Freddie.”
He steeled himself for a second, slowly squeezing the trigger. The pop echoed around us, but so did the thump of the doe hitting the snow.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout!” I praised him, grinning at his shocked but pride-filled expression. “Awesome job!”
He grinned but stood up when my dad whistled for us. My son turned back to me. “I’m glad you didn’t give up either.”
Scooping him up, I kissed his forehead and then carried him across the clearing, where my father and cousin were watching us with amusement.
“C’mon, Freddie. Let’s load her up and get back to your mom, okay?” I asked, setting him down.
Dad and Derek gave him high fives, but he nodded. “Okay.”
There was little sound outside, except for the crunch of my boots in the snow. I wanted to make one last round of the fences before the end of the night. It was Christmas Eve, and even though we’d just gotten back from hunting the day before, I took the last security round for the night, just to give everyone else a break.
A glance above me showed every damn star imaginable. It reminded me of Wyoming and how I’d thought the lack of lights and human sounds were eerie. It was still a little eerie, except that the faint sound of laughter and singing could be heard from the lobby. Quinn had been playing his guitar when I’d walked out, but it seemed that someone had put my parents’ old record player from their cabin at Clear Lake to use. And they’d found some old-school Christmas records. The sound of Bing Crosby, Elvis, and Judy Garland wasn’t exactly a bad thing—strange after all this time but not bad at all.
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, I kept going, stopping long enough to check the front gates to make sure they were locked up tight. We’d opted for a bit of chain and a key lock, but it helped give us the sense of safety. The zeaks couldn’t break in, but survivors probably could, should they put their mind to it. However, since the incident with Harrison, we hadn’t seen any more survivors in the area.
For a moment, I wondered if Sara was right, if maybe we were the only civilized people left. Joel had taken to scanning through every CB channel just about daily in the Hummer. So far, he’d found nothing but static, but he was determined to keep checking, just in case.
My concern wasn’t that there were others out there but what those people may be like. Up until that point, most of the surviving people we’d come across weren’t exactly noble. In fact, the last decent people I’d seen had been at the very beginning. The farmers in Florida had allowed us to camp for one night, though a swarm had come through during a fairly nasty summer rainstorm. We’d tried to help them, but they’d lost a few family members that night, including a young boy just trying to save his grandfather. We’d offered to stay a day or two to assist with repairs, but they’d declined. Everyone else we’d found had either joined us or they’d unfortunately had bad intentions toward us. It didn’t give me much hope for anyone else out there.
I reached up, tugging my wool cap off to rake my fingers through my hair with a sigh, only to pull it back on when I heard the crunch of snow behind me. I turned to see Sara, and I smiled.
“You get pissed when others come out here by themselves. You should follow your own rules, Jack,” she teased, but her eyes told me she kind of meant it.
Smirking her way, I reached up to brush back a stray hair that didn’t quite make it into her wool hat. “Sorry, Shortcake. You and Freddie were having way too much fun eating popcorn. You’re right, though. I just didn’t want to disturb…that.” I pointed toward the lodge’s front doors when I heard laughter and singing again. “I was only taking one more walk.”
She nodded, holding out her hand for mine. “I’ll help you.”
I slipped my hand into hers, and we stayed quiet for the next section of fencing. It was the eastern portion and the thickest part of the trees that were incorporated inside the property. Sara came to a stop, gazing out into the woods, and I listened. Aside from the music that was just a touch fainter, I heard the tell-tale growls and the crunching of snow. Something was moving around in the shadows of the woods on the other side of the fence.
“We can leave it, or we can wait it out,” I suggested, letting out a deep breath, but I pulled the compound bow around just in case.
Her eyes narrowed, and her head tilted. “It’s…close. Only one?”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
There wasn’t much light, except for what the moon was giving off, and I dragged my gaze from the woods to closer up—the fence, the snowdrifts along the bushes, the nearby tree trunks. It was right up against the fence that I saw movement. Wrapping an arm around Sara’s waist, I pulled her back, setting her behind me, because she didn’t have her weapon at the ready. A purple-black hand shot out through the bars of the fence right where she’d been standing. Had she still been there, it would’ve grabbed her leg.
Reaching down, I pulled hard on the arm, causing the zeak’s head to break through the pile of snow he was under and slam into the iron bars. I let loose an arrow at the same time, ending the son of a bitch.
Rounding on her, I let out a deep breath. “You okay?”
“I’m okay,” she barely said aloud but nodded vehemently. When she met my gaze, her eyes were wide with a touch of shock. “Sorry. I didn’t see him.”
“Don’t be, baby,” I told her, kissing her forehead. “The sounds carry funny in the snow. I only just saw him…”
She went to reach for my spent arrow, and I gently grabbed her arm. “Leave it, Sara. I’ll get it in the morning when there’s light. If there’s more out there, then at least they’re fucking quiet.”
She smirked but nodded. “Okay, I love you, but can we finish this? It’s Christmas, and killing these things weren’t exactly what I had in mind for festive activities.”
Grinning, I let out a laugh. “What’choo want, Shortcake?” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her along the last back portion of the fence. “We can’t exactly hold up our old tradition, beautiful,” I whispered in her ear, chuckling when she let out a little giggle. “But fuck, I’ll miss that.”
My lips lingered on her temple as I thought back to Christmases from our past. Ever since Freddie had come along, we’d done just about the same thing every damn year. We’d put him to bed with promises of Santa coming the next morning. Once he was out cold, we’d put all his presents underneath the tree, open a bottle of wine or make hot chocolate, and turn out every light in the house except for the lights on the tree. With Christmas music on low, we usually lost ourselves right there on the sofa in the living room, i
f not the floor in front of the fireplace.
Sara giggled again. “We can, just not in front of the tree.”
“Mmm, true,” I allowed in a whisper against her cheek. “It is a community tree.”
Her smile was brighter than the damn moon, but with one more kiss, we checked the last part of the fence. The small gate leading down to the dock of the lake was fine, locked up tight, and there weren’t any more zeaks that we could hear or see. After we stepped back in through the kitchen so I could clean up, we then made our way into the lobby. I chuckled at the sight in front of me. Abe was reading Dickens’ A Christmas Carol to all the kids, but most of them were sound asleep, leaving the adults listening.
My son was crashed out between my parents. His head was in my mother’s lap as she ran fingers through his hair.
“He wanted to wait for Santa, but…”
“He never makes it,” I told her with a soft laugh, lifting him up into my arms. “Have you guys got…” I started, pointing to the tree.
“Yes, we’ll handle it,” my dad said, standing up and kissing Sara’s cheek. “We’re plenty practiced with you, so we can do this for them.”
He gestured to not only Freddie but to Rina, Aiden, and Janie too. They were the youngest, the ones who still needed the magic of Christmas. Ava had outgrown it, as had Josh, Quinn, and Mallory, and baby Zoe was too little to understand anything. But we’d all tried to come up with something for them for Christmas morning. Millie and Margaret had made doll clothes for Rina’s dolls. Derek and Abe had put their heads together to make building blocks for little Aiden. And Joel had found a few board games and toys at a store across the lake and hidden them in the boat they’d brought back. However, he’d specifically saved a brand new, still-in-the-box football for Freddie. Where he’d found it, I had no idea, but he knew I’d wanted to teach my boy the game I’d played in high school. It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t like Christmases we’d had before, but Freddie wasn’t the only one looking forward to Christmas morning.
With a smile, kisses to Freddie’s forehead and my mother’s cheek, and a nod to everyone, I led my family upstairs to our room.
“We can at least keep this tradition,” Sara whispered, pulling back the covers to Freddie’s bed so I could set him down. She went about taking off his shoes; he was already in pajamas. Then she leaned down, pressing kisses to his cheeks and forehead, and said just as quietly, “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”
I chuckled softly when our boy stirred, mumbling about being good and Santa and cookies.
“Oh, yeah, buddy… You’ve been a really good boy this year,” I whispered to him, thinking back to our talk when we were hunting, about taking care of his mom, which seemed to settle him back into a deep sleep. I brushed his hair from his head, much like my mother used to do to me.
We left a lantern on low just outside his room. The suite wasn’t all that big, but Sara felt safer if we could see to Freddie’s room should something happen in the middle of the night. Once Freddie rolled over, practically burying himself in the covers, I walked into the sitting area and threw another log on the fire.
Sara was quiet when we stepped into our room. Watching her for a moment as I dropped my cap to the top of the dresser, I noted a change in her demeanor from the teasing thing she’d been outside.
“Shortcake?”
She sat down hard on the edge of the bed, looking up at me, but a light, humorless laugh escaped her. “I didn’t… I didn’t think I’d see Christmas, much less with you…with everyone, really.”
Kneeling in front of her, I took her hands in mine, kissing her fingers. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure either, baby.” I shrugged a shoulder when her gaze met mine. “Hell, I could barely think beyond the moment I was in, much less holidays. I’m sure I saw Fourth of July, but I couldn’t tell you where I was or what the fuck I was doing.”
She smirked, linking all our fingers together and curling them to her chest as she leaned closer. “I’m sure,” she allowed, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. “I can barely remember Sandy.” She let her forehead fall to mine. “I remember all the things that made us…us, but I couldn’t tell you what color Shelly’s Bar was painted…or how to get to the post office.”
Chuckling lightly, I kissed her. “I’m thinking those things aren’t important anymore, Sara. And it’s okay.” Sighing a little, I met her sweet, warm dark eyes. “I hate that I don’t have anything to give you.”
“You’re here, right?”
Laughing, I nodded. “I am.”
“Then…trust me, I’m quite grateful to Santa.”
“Pfft. That old fat man ain’t got nothin’ on me, Shortcake,” I teased her, simply to make her giggle, which worked like a damn charm. “And I don’t have an affinity for little people in pointy shoes. Just feisty blue-eyed girls with sweet asses…” I tried to pull my hands from hers, but she held them tighter.
“Shut up, Jack,” she said with a laugh, but she finally let my fingers go, reaching for my face. One hand slipped into my hair, while the other traced across my lips, along my jaw, and down my nose.
Fuck, I lived for that sound. I’d lived for it since the damn beginning. Her smile had always lit up her beautiful face into something just shy of angelic. When she laughed, whatever worries she had seemed to melt away, and I wanted to keep it that way, if only for the small moments we could grab up every now and then.
“I’ll tell you what I want, though,” she whispered against my lips.
“What’s that, baby?”
“You.”
I felt her kisses go from sweet pecks to lingering and needy damn quick, and my gaze raked all over her face before I said, “Done.”
I sensed something in her let go, and I fell with her, giving in to truly kiss her. Her grip in my hair tightened just a little as I braced my hands on either side of her thighs as she stayed sitting on the edge of the bed. I sat up on my knees, reaching for her ass, only to tug her roughly to me, and immediately her legs wrapped around me. Her kisses were deep, all-consuming, making me practically shake in want of her. It never took long for us to lose ourselves. Hell, the week just before I’d left for Afghanistan, the week I’d first met her, our kisses were heat and want and need. And it only got better from there.
Hands grabbed for clothes, and I barely stopped kissing her long enough to stand up to kick out of my shoes. She shoved at my jacket, hoodie, and finally pushed my T-shirt up as far as she could before it stopped underneath my arms.
Before she could take it the rest of the way off, I tugged her boots off, dropping them to the floor and grasping the front of her jeans. When I practically lifted her off the bed to undo them and yank them down, another amazingly sexy giggle escaped her, which made me smile against the skin of her thigh.
“Tight-ass jeans,” I teased her in a growl against her knee, nipping at the skin with my teeth as she let out another little laugh. “Get your ass up on that bed, Shortcake,” I ordered her, drinking in every damn move she made as she scooted back to the pillows.
She was bare legs and dark eyes, still wearing her sweater and underwear. Reaching back, I grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt and pulled it off over my head, only to drop it to the floor. Crawling up the bed and between her legs, I braced myself over her.
“Have you been a good girl this year?” I asked with a wicked smile.
She bit her bottom lip for a second before shaking her head. “No.”
“Excellent, ’cause I don’t want a good girl right this second.”
I loved her hard and completely. It was teasing, it was amazing, and it wasn’t unlike our Christmases before where we celebrated the two of us, if only for one night. We’d have to be responsible parents come morning, but for a blink in time, there was no virus, there were no problems, no issues. We could’ve been anywhere—Sandy, Clear Lake, or the moon, for God’s sake. Nothing existed outside that room.
When we were finally sated, we were wrapped around each other so completely, i
t was hard to tell where I ended and she began. I dropped a kiss to her slightly sweaty forehead, thinking that this was our life now. The virus had been set free for going on eight months—hell, we were closing in on a year now—but despite the struggle to get to her, we’d found some sort of normal. It wasn’t the normal we knew before but a new normal. It was rough and scary, but we were all slowly clawing and clamoring at something of a life, not just survival. And that thought caused me to squeeze her closer as she started to fall asleep.
“Merry Christmas, Sara,” I whispered against her lips, smiling when she muttered it back sleepily, weary eyes barely cracking open. “Sleep, baby. I’m sure we’ll be woken up early by our boy tomorrow.”
“Love you,” was the last thing she barely said aloud before sleep started to take us both.
Chapter 8
SARA
Klamath Lake, Oregon
9 months after Hurricane Beatrice
“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S JANUARY already…” Lexie trailed off with a slow shake of her head as she adjusted her gloves.
I huffed a quiet laugh as I walked between her and Ruby, but it was the truth. “It seems like yesterday that Jack left for Florida,” I muttered softly, frowning down at the ground as I tried to avoid patches of slushy ice. “For a few days,” I added sarcastically, which made Ruby and Olivia chuckle a little.
I glanced up ahead to keep the boys in sight. Jack and Freddie were dressed almost identically, with black wool caps and heavy hooded jackets as they led the way from the boat dock. Joel, Abe, and Derek were behind us. And Sasha—who was blissfully happy to be back in the thick of things—trotted around all of us, just to keep us in check. It was Abe’s and Olivia’s first scouting trip, but both had been eager to get away from the lodge for a day or two, admitting to feeling a bit of cabin fever. Quinn and Mose had been working on the greenhouse, so they couldn’t come with us. And Rich was busy with research. We needed the extra hands. We were checking out the farthest south end of Klamath Lake. It was a large scouting group, but we were hoping to come away with a fair amount of supplies. We’d taken the boat across to save time and fuel, and Jack had wanted to get to a high point to possibly see Klamath Falls in the distance.
