Stranded for the Holidays

by Lisa Carter

  And from the grim, resigned look on his face, he knew the truth, too.

  “Now, AnnaBeth. Pull!” he shouted. “Save my son!”

  God, help me. Help me save both of them. Please...

  There was a shout from behind her. An older man came charging over the hill. And behind him, Deirdre.

  Skidding to a stop, the fiftysomething man grabbed onto another section of the taut line in AnnaBeth’s hands. “It’ll take all of us,” he grunted.

  Out of breath, Deirdre took a spot between them. “We saw what happened from the terrace.”

  “Jonas!” the man shouted. “Get ready! We’ve only got one shot at this. We’re hauling both of you out on the count of three.”

  AnnaBeth tightened her grip.

  “Ready,” the man warned. “One... Two... Three. Pull!”

  Hang on, Jonas. His muscles had to be so fatigued. Don’t let his arms give out, God.

  Digging in her heels, she fought with all her strength to maintain her grip. A desperate tug-of-war. A matter of life and death. She bit her lip so hard, she tasted the metallic taste of her own blood.

  Gaining traction, the man repositioned his hands. “Heave!” he grunted.

  Hanging on to the rope, Jonas and Hunter cleared the edge of the ice.

  “Again!” Deirdre shouted.

  Her arms felt as if they were on fire, but AnnaBeth didn’t dare slacken her hold. Straining. Holding on for dear life—the lives of Hunter and Jonas. Dearer to her than her own.

  One mighty yank and they were out of the water.

  “Don’t move!” the man yelled. “The ice is unstable. Let us pull you to safety.”

  Hand over hand, they tugged, bringing Jonas and Hunter closer. Until at last, they dragged them off the frozen pond and onto stable ground. Only then did she let go of the rope.

  Chest heaving, Jonas was lying in the snow, his arms in a death grip around his son.

  “I’m sowee, Dad.” Hunter sobbed. “I’m sowee.”

  He touched Hunter’s face. “Not your fault, son. An—an accident.” Spent beyond measure, his hand fell.

  Soaking wet, they shivered uncontrollably with the first signs of hypothermia.

  The older man shrugged out of his coat and handed it to Deirdre. “Not been cold long enough yet this season to freeze the pond solid through.”

  Deirdre ran forward with the coat, but Jonas waved her off. “H-Hunt...”

  She wrapped the big, burly jacket around Hunter’s small frame. His sobs had turned into hiccups.

  “Jonas...” AnnaBeth fell to her knees beside him in the snow. “Are you all right? Jonas?” His lips were blue. His face, so pale.

  And she couldn’t seem to keep from touching him. Reassuring herself he was alive. Her mitten brushed over his wet hair. Touched his hand. His cheek.

  Something in his dark eyes gentled. “I’m fine. Thanks to your quick action.”

  “Not me.” She fluttered her hand. “If they hadn’t arrived when they did...” She’d been so close to losing them both. Too close.

  She flushed. Her losing them? They weren’t ever hers to lose in the first place.

  Now that the danger was over, Deirdre sagged against the man. “The Lord is good.” She twined her fingers with the man’s. “God knew we’d need Dwight’s help today.”

  Dwight squeezed her hand.

  With an athletic build, he had the kind of classic handsomeness that with certain men never fades. Not unlike her own father.

  Her eyes tremulous, Deirdre smiled at Dwight.

  One eyebrow raised, AnnaBeth caught Jonas’s eye.

  He winked. “Don’t make me get my shotgun, Mom.”

  Dwight laughed.

  Lips twitching, Jonas’s mother planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t think ’cause you almost drowned, you’re too big for me to put over my knee, mister.”

  Jonas grinned. And AnnaBeth’s heart did the familiar flutter thing it did whenever Jonas smiled.

  She got to her feet. Too quickly. For a moment, the world spun. Either that, or that killer smile of his.

  It might have been her imagination and she wasn’t sure why, but it seemed over the last few days, Jonas smiled more often.

  Cocking his head, he held out his hand to her. “If you’ve got any strength left, I could use a little help getting off the ground.”

  She grasped his hand, widened her stance and tugged him upright.

  “Thanks.” Eyebrows bunching, he motioned to her bottom lip. “What happened there?”

  “AnnaBef!”

  When Hunter threw himself at her, she staggered. His arms locked around her legs—she would’ve gone down, except for Jonas’s steadying hand.

  She bent over Hunter. “Sweetie pie.”

  And when Jonas joined his mother and Dwight, she felt bereft, strangely abandoned. Ridiculous since she’d been the one to move away from him. Like yesterday, when they were feeding the horses.

  But now, as then, she figured it was best not to get too used to something she could never have. Only make parting that much harder.

  Warming Hunter’s face between her gloves, she cuddled him closer, trying to share her body heat with him.

  “Are you sure, you’re not hurting anywhere? Does your tummy hurt?” She glanced over to Hunter’s grandmother. “He might’ve swallowed pond water.”

  She was disturbed to find Jonas’s gaze boring into her. The gentle look had been replaced by something she didn’t altogether understand.

  He folded his arms over his wet shirt. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get him checked out.” His voice gruff, he was once more retreating to the place inside himself where he kept his feelings locked.

  Dwight rubbed his chin. “The road to town is plowed, but I can’t say the same about heading over the ridge to the medical center. Amber could look him over, though. What do you think?”

  Amber? AnnaBeth’s stomach knotted. Did Jonas have a girlfriend?

  “Good idea. My truck’s over the rise.” He motioned. “And my coat.”

  Deirdre patted his shoulder. “Before you head out, let’s get you both some dry clothes.”

  The men tromped off to retrieve the truck. And, hand in hand with Hunter, the women plodded toward the house.

  “In case you’re wondering, honeybun, Amber is Dwight’s daughter and a pediatric nurse.”

  AnnaBeth bit her lip. “I wasn’t. Wondering.”

  Deirdre arched an eyebrow. As if she didn’t believe her. “Amber and her husband, Ethan Green—”

  Amber had a husband?

  “—live near town with their twin daughters. Ethan’s grandmother, ErmaJean, is best friends with my aunt IdaLee.” Deirdre gave AnnaBeth a significant look.

  Any significance, however, was lost on AnnaBeth.

  But she nodded as if she understood. “I’m guessing Dwight is the man I’ve heard you talking to on the phone every night.”

  Spots of color bloomed in Deirdre’s cheeks. And AnnaBeth envisioned how Jonas’s mother must’ve looked as a girl.

  Deirdre tried not to smile. And failed. “Both of us are widowed. His wife, Kitty, was actually my closest friend. Last fall, we found ourselves running into each other all over town.” She dropped her gaze to the path. “Silly, isn’t it? At our age.”

  “I think it’s wonderful.”

  Deirdre darted her eyes at AnnaBeth.

  “I hope you’ll invite me to the wedding.”

  Letting go of Hunter’s hand, despite the frigid temperature, Deirdre fanned her face. “We keep each other company, but it’s not like that.”

  For a second, AnnaBeth imagined an autumn wedding set on the FieldStone Ranch. And the tasteful, elegant touches Victoria would include. Showcasing the ranch and the splendor of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

 
There was no denying it, her stepmother was nothing if not classy.

  Slipping into the kitchen, she held the door for Deirdre and Hunter. “Your relationship with Dwight sure looks like something to me.”

  Deirdre motioned Hunter to the back staircase. “Run upstairs and put on dry clothes, honey. Gramma will be there in a minute.”

  He climbed the stairs slower than his usual breakneck speed. The cold had sapped him of his energy, leaving him drooping.

  They watched him until he disappeared from view.

  “Why not, Deirdre?”

  She shook her head, but a fond smile played about her lips. “You’re like a dog with a bone when you get your teeth into something, aren’t you, honeybun?”

  AnnaBeth flicked her hand. “Quit stalling and answer the question.”

  “Why not? Without a mother, Hunter needs me. And I can’t in good conscience leave Jonas to manage the ranch by himself. He needs a wife.” Deirdre flicked a look in AnnaBeth’s direction. “And I’m thinking you might be the very one to apply for the job. What do you say?”

  Mouth gaping open, AnnaBeth took a step backward. “I—I...”

  Wow. That escalated fast. These mountain folk were nothing if not direct.

  “Ummmm...” AnnaBeth made for the stairs. “Why don’t I go check on Hunter?”

  “Run all you like, honeybun, but you can’t hide.” Her soft laughter followed AnnaBeth’s hasty retreat. “I have it on good authority Aunt IdaLee and the matchmakers have a new project. A Christmas project.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sitting beside AnnaBeth in the truck, Jonas waited for Hunter to join them. When he stopped to consider what nearly happened to his son at the pond...

  He wrapped his hands around the wheel to stop their shaking. God was so good. And if not for her quick thinking, today could’ve so easily ended in a tragedy from which he would never have recovered.

  Not just for a little boy’s Christmas wish, but perhaps the real reason God had brought AnnaBeth to the FieldStone was to rescue them today.

  Cutting his eyes at her, he was disconcerted to find her gaze locked onto his.

  “You’re been through so much. Do you need me to drive, Jonas?”

  How did she know what he was feeling? She read him so well. Not many people did.

  “I—I...” His face burning, he hoped she really didn’t see everything he was feeling. Not when it came to her. “You saved our lives.”

  She gave him a quick, shy glance before dropping her gaze. “We saved each other.” Holding his hat in her lap, she ran her finger over the suede fabric. “I guess we’re even now, huh?”

  “I’m totally in your debt.” He raked his hand over his head. “I could never repay you for the life of my son,” he grunted.

  A pucker formed between her brows. He had the irrational urge to trace his finger over the delicate curve of her eyebrow.

  “Jonas—”

  Dwight wrenched open the truck door. “Hunter’s all set to go.”

  Having donned his cowboy hat and boots, Hunter scrambled into the truck. Draping her arm around his son, she snuggled him close.

  “Deirdre’s on the phone with your aunt.” Leaning inside the cab, Dwight made sure the buckle on the booster seat was securely fastened around Hunter. “I called Amber to let her know you were coming.”

  “Thanks, Dwight.” His eyes blurred. It wasn’t like him to get emotional. “For everything.”

  Smiling, Dwight stepped back. “I’m going to visit with your mom. You know to drive careful on these mountain roads. Any melted snow will refreeze once darkness falls.”

  Jonas reached for the ignition. “I’ll take care. I hope we won’t be gone too long.”

  Heading down the drive, he threaded the truck through the stone gateposts and onto the road.

  AnnaBeth sighed. “Hunter’s gone to sleep.”

  Head lolling against AnnaBeth’s shoulder, his hat had fallen forward over his forehead. “Is he okay?”

  “I think so.” She didn’t move her arm. If anything, her arm tightened around his son. “He’s probably just exhausted from the ordeal.”

  Jonas blew out a breath. “He’s not the only one. I’ve probably aged a decade since this morning.” Halfway down the mountain, he pointed toward the side of the road. “Zach’s towed your car.”

  She turned her head at the empty space where she’d been forced to abandon her vehicle.

  “After we get Hunter checked out and buy some more cold medication for Mom, we should ride over to his shop on Main.” He glanced at her. “Get the verdict on your car.”

  She nodded. “And with me gone, your life can finally return to normal.”

  Normal hadn’t been so good for him. Since AnnaBeth’s arrival, his life had taken a definite upswing. But based on what happened and what didn’t between them yesterday in the pasture, she didn’t feel the same way.

  “I’m sure you can’t wait to be rid of us.” He looked at her. “And eager to see your family.”

  She stared through the windshield at the winding road. “Not so much, actually.”

  Not so much to be rid of them? Or, not so much to see her family?

  Her blog tagline read, “May your heart always know the way home.”

  But was AnnaBeth still searching for her heart’s home? And an even more disquieting notion...

  Despite everything he thought he believed about himself, for the first time in his life, Jonas wondered if he’d truly found his.

  Reaching the valley, the road leveled off. The Department of Transportation had been busy. Piles of plowed snow dotted the sides of the road.

  The truck rattled over the bridge.

  “Dwight runs a river-rafting company during the spring, summer and fall. Same seasons as the FieldStone. His son-in-law, Ethan, is a good friend of mine.”

  She straightened to get a better look at the boulder-studded river that flowed beneath the bridge. The scent of roses wafted across his nostrils.

  His heart thudded. “I don’t guess that first day you made it as far as town.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If there’s a wrong path to take, you can be assured I’ll find it. Wrong-Way Cummings, that’s me.”

  From where he was sitting—alive and with his son—she had taken exactly the right road.

  “You’ll meet their twin girls, Lucy and Stella, from Amber’s first marriage.”

  “So Ethan is their stepfather?”

  There was that weird note in her voice again. Every time step-anything was mentioned. Not for the first time, he wondered about her relationship with her stepmother. And with her father.

  “Amber jokes Ethan only married her because he loves the girls so much. And the feeling is mutual. Lucy and Stella are wild about him.” Jonas grinned. “Actually, the twins can be a little wild. Period.”

  She smiled. “Twins. How fun.”

  On the outskirts of town, she swiveled to read the Welcome-to-Truelove sign. “Where True Love Awaits.” She blinked. “So that’s really a thing here?”

  “You have no idea.” And then he remembered who else she was likely to encounter at Ethan’s. “About that...”

  “About what?” Her eyes widened. “True love?”

  “Yes, I mean, no. Well, not exactly. Sort of,” he stammered.

  She laughed. He flushed.

  “You’re going to meet Ethan’s grandma, too. But the thing is, ErmaJean and her friends, including my great-aunt IdaLee, get these outrageous ideas.”

  Each word a potential land mine, he kept his explanation of the Truelove Matchmakers and their shenanigans as brief as possible.

  “I see. You don’t want Ethan’s grandmother to get the wrong idea about you and me.” AnnaBeth’s gaze became remote. “I’ll try not to embarrass you in front of your friends.”


  “That’s not what—”

  Nearly overshooting Ethan’s bungalow, he had to abruptly swerve into the driveway. AnnaBeth put her hand on the dashboard to brace.

  “Sorry,” he grunted.

  Jonas parked and shut off the engine.

  Hunter awoke with a start. “Are we here yet, Dad?” His little guy rubbed his eyes.

  Giving Jonas a nice view of her shoulder, she fussed over his son. Smoothing her hand over his hair. Touching his cheek.

  His mind flew to the look in her eyes when she touched his face at the pond. And he wished... It didn’t matter what he wished.

  Because she seemed determined to think the worst of him, or because he was jealous of her attention to his son?

  His stomach cramped. He’d only met the woman a few days ago. But sad, mad or glad, she’d managed to make him feel more alive than he’d felt in years.

  Jonas got out of the truck and came around the hood, but she’d already managed to free his son from the booster seat.

  She shoved Jonas’s hat into his chest. “Here.” And took Hunter’s small hand in hers.

  Clamping the hat on his head, he took his son’s other hand. “Just so you know...”

  She paused, midstep.

  “The girls are sweet, but sometimes they overwhelm Hunter.”

  She sniffed. “Like father like son?”

  His mouth tightened. “Yeah. That.”

  She crinkled her nose. “Good to know.”

  He bristled. Yet when she flipped her hair over her shoulder, he imagined the sensation of running his fingers through the red silk of her hair. And promptly stumbled over his own feet.

  Ethan came out onto the porch. “Dwight said to be on the lookout for you.” He waved them over.

  But Jonas scowled, annoyed for letting the debutante get under his skin. Again.

  * * *

  Inside the house, Hunter flat-out refused to let Amber Green put her stethoscope to his chest unless AnnaBeth stayed with him.

  She exchanged a look with Jonas. “Of course, I’ll stay with you, punkin.”

  Hunter cocked his head. “I’m not a pumpkin, AnnaBef.”