He placed the glue into the final butt-miter joint and set the frame down while he gathered the remaining parts. He’d been mistaken before when he thought she risked her life for pictures. He hadn’t understood then. She was more than someone who dabbled with a camera. She was an artist.
The glass shone after he wiped it down and slid it into its notches. Next, he set the backing on and made final adjustments to the metal pieces holding it in place. He turned the heavy frame over in his hands and scrutinized every detail. It was ready.
The house was warmer than the workshop, but still held a chill. He placed the gift under the tree and set out to make a fire. Down the hall, he could hear the shower running and muffled singing. With the flames ablaze in the stone hearth, he moved to the kitchen and turned on some Christmas music. As Bing sang about having a White Christmas, he flipped on the gas stove and set to work on breakfast.
He smelled her before he saw her, the same feminine smell he worshiped the night before wafting in the air announcing her arrival. His body responded to the memory.
Hands glided around his waist and locked across his stomach. “Where’d you go this morning?”
“I had to finish up a little project I’ve been working on.” He grinned as he flipped over each of the pancakes in the skillet.
She leaned around him and raised her eyebrow.
“You’ll get to see it,” he said and laughed as she bounced on her toes with excitement, “After we eat.”
“You won’t hear any arguing from me. I love pancakes.” Lizbeth pulled away from him and set the table. “I was going to ask how it is you have all this food up here. I mean, how long can we survive before we run out?”
“Worried you’ll starve?”
“No. You’ve got a gun. We can live off the land,” she said with an exaggerated southern twang.
He laughed again and set a heaping plate on the table. “I went by a store on the way up, the little place at the base of the mountain?” He waited for her nod of remembrance. “Anyway, there’s also a freezer in the workshop.” This time he watched as she shook her head. “The little detached building off to the far side of the house.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, we could probably live another week before we’ll have to start living off the land.” He dropped his voice in a southern twang to match hers.
She grinned. “I can see why your family likes it here. It’s beautiful and quiet. A nice place to unwind.” She drizzled more maple syrup over the remaining bites of pancake on her plate and then caught Jonas grinning at her. “What?”
“You’re like a kid. Can’t get enough syrup.”
“Well, at the end, the last bites have soaked everything up. They need to be topped off.” Her scowl was indignant but playful. “No one wants dry pancakes.”
He shook his head and continued to eat. Being around Lizbeth would never be boring. He figured she had an answer for everything.
“Do you want some coffee? We could sit by the fire for a little while.”
“Sounds like a nice way to spend Christmas.” She stood and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “I’m going to go call my mom. I’ll meet you out there.”
“Sure.” He finished up in the kitchen and carried their mugs out to the living room. He could hear her soft voice murmuring from the direction of her room. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own phone, but when he heard Lizbeth’s footsteps, he returned it to his pocket, unused. “How’s your mom?”
“Offering to cook for you.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? You’re her hero.”
He shifted from one foot to the other and looked at the tree. The sole gift under the tree, wrapped in brown parchment paper and no bow, lay waiting, offering him an easy distraction.
“Here.” He bent down, retrieved it, then held it out to her. “Merry Christmas.”
“What in the world? How did you get me a gift?” Her voice raised an octave, and her eyes danced.
“I get up much earlier than you do.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets and watched her as she dropped down onto the couch and began tearing at the paper.
“Oh, Jonas, it’s wonderful.” She ran her fingers over the intricate design burned into the wood and then looked up at him. “You made this? Since I got here?”
He shrugged. “I thought you could use it.”
She set the frame to the side and stood so she could reach his mouth with her own. Her arms wound around him, and he lifted her off the floor. After a few moments, he gently set her back on her feet, and they sat down together, her legs resting over his.
“Thank you for the frame. You are truly talented.”
He lifted his mug to his lips and sipped. “Woodworking has always been a shared hobby in my family. My dad and brother are pretty skilled, too.”
“It’s nice that you all have something you can do together.” She shifted in her seat and leaned toward him. “I feel a little bad though.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t have anything for you.”
“I don’t need anything.”
She climbed across his lap and felt his body immediately respond to the pressure of hers. “There’s nothing you need?”
He set his coffee on the table beside him and wrapped his hands around her waist. “Well, maybe there’s one thing.”
Their mouths met, and there, in front of the fire, they made love. With the heat warming their bodies and the twinkling lights shining down around them, they held onto each other and stroked each other’s damp skin.
“I don’t want you to go,” Jonas murmured.
Her body stiffened. “I have to. I need to see my mom.”
“I understand, but I want you to know that having you here has changed my life.”
She sat up suddenly and pulled the blanket around her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat up and kissed her shoulder. She continued to stare at the tree. Her sudden coolness confusing him. “What did I say?”
When she finally did turn to him, he saw tears in her eyes. “Don’t ask me to stay. I’m afraid if you do, I will. And I don’t want what happened to me before to happen with us.” She stood and put space between them, cold air filling the place where she’d been. “I want to remember you and this place just as it is. If you ask me to stay and I put my life on hold, I’m afraid one day I’ll regret it and hold it against you.”
“But, Lizbeth I wouldn’t want you to change who you are.”
“Sure, you say that now, but one day you’ll get tired of my always being gone.”
He moved to stand up, and she held up a hand to stop him.
“Let’s just remember this as a perfect Christmas.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Don’t shut me out, and don’t assume I’m like him. I’m my own man, Lizbeth.”
A knock sounded at the door and startled them both.
“We’re not finished.” He yanked on his jeans and moved to the front door, leaving her standing behind him wrapped in the blanket.
“Uncle Jonas.” His nephew flew against his legs and hugged him. “It took us forever to get up the mountain, but grandmother insisted.”
Jonas peered around the boy and saw his entire family unloading his brother’s Yukon in front of the cabin. He leaned out the door and hollered a hello.
His nephew pushed past him to get back out onto the porch. “Mom,” he shouted, “There’s a girl in here.”
Chapter Eight
She stood with her mouth hanging open as a little boy, no more than eight years old, stared at her and then ran back outside. Jonas kept his back to her and called out a greeting to whoever was outside. She didn’t wait for any other visitors; instead, she grabbed her clothes off the floor and darted down the hall to her room.
Through the closed door, she could hear muffled voices and footsteps as more and more people seemed to come inside. Facing the mirror propped on top of the dresser,
she stripped off Jonas’s shirt. Her cheeks were flushed from her time with him and her skin tender. Her face grew warm thinking about the last twelve hours. She hadn’t planned to go to bed with him, but she didn’t regret it.
Laughter and a child’s squeals prompted her to get dressed and put what she and Jonas had shared out of her mind. She didn’t have time to think about him right now with a group of people right outside. Her stomach flipped as she remembered what the boy had said...uncle.
“Oh, my god,” she said aloud at her reflection. His family was out there. She whimpered and then jumped as a quiet knock sounded on her door. “Yes?” Her voice sounded small.
Jonas pushed the door open and peeked inside. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” She began straightening things that were already straight, anything to keep from looking at him. “You didn’t want to mention your family was coming?”
He entered the room and closed the door behind him. “I didn’t know.”
He had found time to throw on a shirt, but he was still barefoot. And sexy. The way he leaned against the door, perfectly relaxed, the beard and sweater making him look warm and welcoming.
She turned away from him. “If they’re here that means I should be able to get down the mountain.” Lizbeth started unplugging her computer and packing it in her bag. “You should be with your family, and I should be with mine.”
“Lizbeth, what are you doing? It’s Christmas.” Jonas’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Don’t go.” His tone was soft, almost pleading.
Her hands fell away from her bag. He was doing it again, asking her to stay with him. She shook her head. She shouldn’t. Every minute she stayed would make leaving harder. “I should leave.”
“No, come out here and meet my family.” He reached for her hand and tugged lightly.
“But what are they going to think?” She did her best to drag her feet. “Your nephew practically saw me naked.”
“Well, then I guess this is the best Christmas he’s ever had.” Jonas laughed as heat flooded her cheeks. “I’m a grown man. No one out there thinks of me as a monk. Now stop acting so crazy, and get out here.”
She tried to set him on fire with a look, but no such luck. Instead, she straightened her spine and followed him out to the living room. If she had to go out, she was going keep her head up and make no excuses. Her bravery faltered as she stared around the room. There, circled around the tree, stood the family from the pictures she had seen her first day in the cabin and a couple with salt and pepper hair she assumed were his parents.
“Everybody, this is Lizbeth. She had a little trouble getting down the mountain so she’s hanging out here until the tow truck can get up here tomorrow.”
“Was that your red car we passed on the road?” Jonas’s mother stepped forward and took Lizbeth’s hands in her own. “You poor thing. It’s a miracle you weren’t hurt.”
“It’s a miracle your son was here to pull me out of the car.” Lizbeth turned a warm smile at Jonas and then looked back at his mother.
“That’s our boy.” There was no mistaking the pride in her eyes. “My name is Barbara, and this is my husband Gary.” She gestured to her husband, and Lizbeth nodded hello. “Over there is Jonas’s brother, Matt, and his wife, Jennifer. And those two little monsters are our grandsons, Luke and Donovan.” The boys squirmed next to their father, clearly ready to do something other than make nice with a stranger. “We’re thrilled you’ll be here to have dinner with us tonight.”
“Thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed.
“Jonas, help your father and brother unload the car, will you?”
“Sure thing.” Jonas shook his head at Lizbeth when she offered to help and told her to stay inside in the heat.
As the men went out the door, the boy she saw earlier, Luke stopped in front of her. “Why weren’t you wearing any clothes when we got here?”
“Luke, out,” his mother said and swatted at him.
Lizbeth’s face burned.
“Please excuse my son’s lack of manners,” Jennifer said with a face almost as red as her own. “I blame his father.”
They both let out an uneasy laugh.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Jonas is a grown man, and you’re a beautiful girl. There’s no need for embarrassment.” His mother turned and shook out of her heavy jacket. “Why, when Gary and I were young, we could barely keep our hands off each other.”
Lizbeth and Jennifer grinned and exchanged a look.
“You girls come in here and help me get dinner started.”
* * * *
The evening passed in a rush of chaos and noise. They ate ham, scalloped potatoes and green beans around the extended kitchen table, and she listened as Jonas’s family discussed the future of their company. The boys ran around the living room with Nerf guns, firing foam disks at each other. Air mattresses were blown up, bags unpacked, and once Jennifer wrangled the boys into bed and the evening wound down, Lizbeth found herself sad the night was almost over.
She poured herself a mug of coffee, put on the black jacket she had been using since her arrival and slipped outside. Standing on the porch in the moonlight, with the still, crisp air all around her, she took a seat in one of the rocking chairs and pulled her knees up to her chest. She could see her breath and the steam rising from her cup. Her coffee would be cold long before she finished it, but she wanted to take in the scenery one last time before she left the next morning.
The door to the house creaked open as she rocked. She sat up when she saw who it was, nearly sloshing coffee out of her mug.
“It’s nice out on the porch at night.” Barbara leaned against the railing and took a deep breath of the mountain air. “We’ve always loved it here.”
“I can see why. It’s beautiful.”
She turned and put the rail to her back. “Lizbeth, I wanted to thank you for being so good to my son.”
Lizbeth stared for a moment, as her thoughts became a tangled web of confusion. “But I didn’t do anything. He saved my life.”
His mother pulled her hand out of her coat and pointed toward the window where the rest of the family sat inside by the fire. “The man in that house is my son.” She paused a moment and slid her hand back into her coat pocket as Lizbeth studied her. “The man I saw last month, when my son was supposed to come home for good, was a shell of his former self. You’ve brought him back, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. His father and I weren’t sure he’d ever be himself again, but you’ve given us the best Christmas present we’ve ever received. You’ve given us our Jonas back.” His mother blinked back tears and cleared her throat. “Don’t stay outside too long. You’ll freeze out here.”
“I won’t,” she whispered. She waited until his mother was back inside and then exhaled. They had saved each other, it seemed. Wolves howled in the distance, and she shivered. She wasn’t alone outside after all. She laid her head back against the chair and looked at the moon as it shone in a clear sky. She thought about running inside for her camera, but for once, she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to break the moment. She wanted to remember every detail of her time here.
The door to the house opened again, and this time, it was Jonas. He crossed the porch and stood where his mom had a few minutes earlier. With his hands in his pockets, he inhaled the cold air. “What?” he asked when he saw her grinning at him.
“Nothing. You just reminded me of someone.”
“Uh-huh. Well, are you ready to go to bed? Everyone else is getting settled.”
The silence stretched between them, neither saying aloud what they were both thinking. Instead, he uncrossed his ankles and held out a hand to her. She laced her small fingers with his and followed him into the house. The lights were off, except for the ones on the tree. They remained quiet. Jonas took her mug and set it on the table, then slid her jacket from her shoulders. His fingers ran the length of her arms, leaving a line of electricity in their wake. Their eyes met and held until
Jonas placed one of his hands on either side of her face and pulled her into a kiss.
His lips were gentle. So much so, her heart didn’t know whether to beat faster or shatter in her chest. Desperation overwhelmed her, and she fought back tears.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered.
Chapter Nine
He reached across the bed in search of her before his eyes were open. Empty space and cold sheets were all he found. Plates clanged, and cabinets closed in the kitchen. He sat up and ran a hand over his face. The sheet settled around his waist, and once the fog of sleep cleared, he noticed the room was empty except for his own army duffle.
His adrenaline surged. He tossed the blankets aside and yanked on his jeans and a sweatshirt. He looked around the room again as though there might be a different outcome. Maybe Lizbeth had just moved her things into the corner, but he knew better. As he passed in front of the mirror, a white piece of paper with his name on it caught his eye. He flipped it open and scanned the note scribbled inside.
Jonas,
You are an amazing man. I want to thank you again for saving my life and giving me a Christmas I will never forget. I know it’s cowardly to leave without saying goodbye, but seeing you warm with sleep and peaceful is how I want to remember you. I will never forget our time together.
You have my heart,
Lizbeth
He balled the note in his fist and took off for the front door. She couldn’t be too far ahead of him.
“Jonas, do you want some breakfast?” His mother paused by the kitchen door and watched as he stuffed his bare feet in his boots. “Where are you going?”
“Did you see her this morning?”
“Yes, she said goodbye, and then your father drove her down to meet the tow truck. What’s wrong?”
He yanked his jacket off the hook and stared at his mother.
Frozen: A Winter Romance Anthology Page 22