Willow Creek Christmas

by Graison, Lily

  "And the little one?"

  "Sophie Ann is five." When she locked eyes with him again, it was all she could do to keep the tears from stealing her words. "Please." The word came out as a faint whisper. "That shack is the only thing keeping us alive at the moment. We'll surely die out here in the open."

  He studied her for long moments, his gaze never faltering. Keri held her breath, willed him to see their precarious situation and hoped he showed them this one small mercy.

  "Where's your man?"

  Her heart thumped against her rib cage. "Dead." Keri swallowed to dislodge the knot forming in her throat. "He was thrown from a horse. We've been alone since spring."

  "You've no other family to take you in?"

  Sophie chose that moment to make her presence known. "Uncle Robert was mean to us."

  Her soft spoken statement cut Keri like a knife, her gut wrenching as she looked over at her. "Hush, Sophie Ann."

  The man stared at them for what seemed like an eternity before shifting in the saddle. Keri could tell he was reconsidering his earlier command for them to leave but she wasn't sure why. His gaze swept over her again from head to toe and fear coiled in her stomach. Would he be like every other man she'd encountered over the past few months? Expecting payment for his generosity by having a quick tumble with her between his bed sheets?

  Her eyes burned, tears filling her vision until he became blurry and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Could no one help them without expecting something in return?

  He sighed, his gaze flicking over the three of them before landing on her again. "You can stay as long as the snow falls. The moment it clears, leave." He turned the horse and rode away as fast as the beast would carry him in the snow.

  Keri watched his retreating form in stunned silence until he disappeared, his image lost in the snowfall. He hadn't asked for anything. He offered her no lewd remarks or looks. Hadn't requested payment of any kind from her. The tears pooling in her eyes slipped past her eyelashes. She wiped them away and smiled down at Aaron and Sophie. "Let's go," she said. "For whatever reason, he's changed his mind."

  They trudged back to the shack, laying their things inside and spent the next half hour picking up twigs and logs small enough to carry. The snow was still falling and Keri wasn't sure how long the storm would last. If it stayed like this, the fluttering snowflakes falling in soft wisps, they'd be all right.

  Getting another fire going took longer than she would have liked and by the time a small blaze sparked, her hands were near frozen. She added more twigs, squeezed in a small log, and ushered the kids in closer.

  They spent the rest of the evening nibbling on bread and the cold beans still sitting next to the fireplace and Keri listened to Aaron tell Sophie a story until her mind started to wander. The vision of the man on his black stallion filled her mind’s eye. He was nothing like the angels she'd heard stories of but he was nothing less than angelic. His face was full of hard lines, the scar making him look cold and dangerous, but his mercy on them left no room for doubt in her mind. Actions always spoke louder than words and even though his were harsh and biting, Keri knew that under all that unkempt hair, a kind soul still lived.

  * * * *

  By nightfall, snow and sleet pelted the cabin until the sound nearly drove Noah out of his mind. He paced the small space he called home and stopped every so often to stare out the darkened window into the blackness that lay beyond the glass.

  He lifted his hands, laying them on either side of the small window, and stared in the direction that that old line shack stood. His thoughts hadn't strayed far from the woman and kids since he'd returned home and now that the storm had picked up into what could be nothing more than a blizzard, worry started to creep in.

  Had the roof of the shack caved in yet? Would it? How long would those beans and that loaf of bread last them? Was the threadbare blanket he saw on the floor by the fire all they had to keep them warm? Did they find enough firewood?

  "Damn it," he muttered as he lowered his head, his mind looping around question after question.

  He turned away from the window and looked around his cabin. It was nothing special but it was warm, the walls sound. The small lean-to kitchen was functional, his larder filled with food enough to feed a small army of people all winter and the cedar chest at the foot of his bed held more blankets than he'd ever use.

  All the comforts a man needed were at his fingertips. He'd not starve regardless of how long the storm lasted. He'd be warm, cozy even, and knowing it caused guilt to eat away at him until his throat was raw, loathing choking him where he stood.

  The wind whistled against the walls again and he walked to the door, opening it. A blast of icy air chilled him to the bone, sleet and snow stinging his face. The night was so dark he could see nothing past the door frame.

  He shut the door, bolted it from the inside, and walked back to the rocker that sat facing the fire. Hours ticked by, thoughts muddled inside his head until he couldn't stand the torment a moment longer before he readied himself for bed.

  Laying his head down, he closed his eyes, exhausted, his conscience filled with worry he shouldn't have for those squatters in his line shack until everything went blessedly quiet as sleep claimed him.

  It seemed as if he'd only shut the world off when he heard the rooster crow. He blinked against the light flooding the room and wondered how he'd slept so soundly with all that had plagued him the evening before.

  He crawled from the bed, dressed and ventured outside. The snow was still falling but the rope he'd thought to tie between the barn and the cabin was still there and he followed it, pushing the doors to the barn open when he reached it and spent the next hour tending his animals. It wasn't until he'd finished that he bridled the horse, sat the saddle on his back and cinched it tight that he went back into the house, pulled those extra blankets from the chest at the foot of his bed and carried them back outside.

  The trip across the valley toward the trees was long and hard, the horse doing his best to walk in the deepening snow. When the line shack came into view long minutes later, Noah was relieved to see the roof still in place but just as he'd suspected, it sagged in the middle, the snow lying on top too heavy for the old rafters to handle.

  He dismounted, grabbed the blankets and walked into the shack without knocking. The woman, Keri, she'd said her name was, sat by the fire, only a single flame burning around a pile of twigs in the crumbling fireplace, her arms wrapped around her small frame. She looked up, startled.

  The children were still sleeping. They were wrapped around each other, the threadbare blanket he'd seen the day before tucked underneath them until they were both cocooned in a small, warm roll.

  The air inside the shack was frigid, his breath frosting the air in front of him and his earlier plan, to leave the blankets, was shot all to hell the moment he saw the woman shiver. They couldn't stay here. The blankets would do very little with the temperature still dropping, not to mention the condition of the roof. Another day of heavy snowfall and they'd be buried alive.

  He bit back a curse and clenched his jaw, staring at her gaunt face before sighing. "Get your things," he said. "You can't stay here."

  She stood, her eyes wide, and he was once again startled by how thin she was. How unhealthy the pallor of her skin appeared, her eyes sunken and hollow.

  "But I thought…" She blinked up at him, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks before he saw her swallow. "You said we could stay until the snow stopped."

  "Well that was before I knew a blizzard was rolling in!" She jumped at the tone and harshness of his voice, her little ones stirring in their blanket. He ignored her reaction, not caring if he scared her. He did most people and was used to the looks by now, used to the way others shied away from him.

  But when Noah looked into her eyes, he noticed the absence of fear and disgust when she looked at him. She wasn't turning away in revulsion. She met his gaze head on, held it. How long had it been s
ince a woman looked at him and didn't turn away or stare at that damn scar? He couldn't even remember. His chest tightened until he found it hard to breathe. He glanced up at the roof and motioned to it with a hand. "The roof is sagging. Another day and it'll cave in on you."

  The breath left her lungs in an audible gush when she saw the deep swag in the middle of the roof.

  Noah glanced at her sleeping kids. "Get them up. You can't stay here." When her frightened eyes met and locked with his, he regretted speaking without explaining first. "I'm taking you back to my cabin until the storm breaks." It took only seconds for the expression on her face to change. In a blink of an eye, she looked miserable. Did the prospect of staying with him disgust her so much? Noah felt the loathing he'd lived with so long return in a flash, the anger he harbored with life in general scalding his throat to the point he could barely swallow.

  He narrowed his eyes. "Stay then, I couldn't care less what happens to you, but when you're buried alive don't expect me to dig you out." He tossed the blankets he'd brought to the floor and turned, hurried across the room and reached out to grab the door handle. He hadn't heard her follow him but she grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. He jumped, startled she'd touched him, and took a step away from her.

  "Please, don't go."

  Noah looked over at her, the misery he'd seen on her face still present. She licked her lips, the small pink tip of her tongue darted out and his heart thumped in his chest at the sight. Her lips were full and pink, but dry and cracked. She wasn't the least bit appealing but he couldn't help his thoughts going places they shouldn't have all because she'd touched him. Looked at him without flinching.

  "I have no money to pay you."

  Her softly spoken words snapped him back to the present. She straightened her spine, met his gaze head on. Her cornflower-blue eyes were large, luminous, and quite possibly the prettiest color he'd ever seen. "I didn't ask you for any money," he said, snapping out of his daze. That look filled her eyes again. Misery and…. shame. With nothing but the clothes on her back, the woman apparently still had her pride. He realized she wasn't refusing his charity. She just felt ill at ease doing it. He tilted his head, his hair falling over the scarred side of his face. "There are other ways to pay me back if you feel so inclined."

  She closed her eyes, her shoulders lifting as she inhaled a large breath. She nodded, opening her eyes back up as resignation washed over her face. "Very well then."

  As she woke the children, he busied himself putting out the fire. When the kids turned sleepy eyes his way, he looked at them both as they stood there bundled up in the blankets he'd brought. He met their gazes briefly, then looked to the woman. "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded her head in reply. "All right, then. Let's go."

  Chapter Four

  To Keri's utter amazement, he'd placed her and the children on the horse and walked by their side, slogging through the nearly knee high snow while guiding the horse back to his cabin.

  What sort of man required payment from a woman by having her whore herself out to him but still behaved like a perfect gentleman? She glanced down at him and shook her head. She didn't understand him.

  She'd hoped to never be in a position to stoop so low again but the frigid night she'd spent by a single flame, listening to her children's teeth chattering, changed that. She couldn't bare it. Couldn't watch them starve or freeze to death and do nothing to prevent it. If she had to bare herself to this harsh, angry man and let him slake his desire, then so be it. She'd do so three times a day if she had to.

  It was late afternoon before his place came into view and Keri held Sophie to her just a little bit tighter. His small farm looked similar to the old home she had shared with John. The memories of his death, and the aftermath of his passing assaulted her, the terror she'd felt before one desperate act on her part had gone so wrong nearly stealing her breath.

  She blinked and pushed the thought out of her mind. It did no good to dwell on the past.

  The man led the horse to the cabin and reached for Aaron then Sophie, lifting them before setting them on the ground. When he turned to her, Keri could tell he was as uncomfortable touching her as she was at having him do it. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her as if she weighed less than air and set her feet on the ground, taking two steps back once he did.

  He nodded to the cabin door. "Go on inside. I need to take care of the horse, then I'll be in."

  Keri waited until he shut the barn door behind him before opening the door to his cabin. She ushered the children in before going in herself, pushing the door shut behind her.

  It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the low light and she blinked rapidly until everything came into focus. The cabin consisted of a bed and a single rocking chair facing the fireplace. A large trunk sat at the foot of the bed, its latch open. Articles of clothing hung from pegs nailed into the wall by the bed. A lean-to kitchen was situated on the right of the door. She craned her neck to look inside. A stove and a small table with two chairs lined one wall, a sink on the other. Shelves lining the wall held plates, cups and more food than Keri had ever seen. Bags of dry good, jars of preserves and canned meats, baskets and bins filled to capacity left her in awe. This man had enough food to feed half the town.

  The moment she thought of him, the door opened and she turned, grabbing Aaron and Sophie by the shoulders and pulled them next to her. The man hung his hat on a peg by the door then removed his coat, hanging it as well. When he turned to face them, he looked more uncomfortable than Keri felt.

  He took up most of the space by the door. He stood at a height much taller than most. He looked strongly built and healthy. The beard covering his face was scraggly and much too long and it hid his features well. The white puckered scar on his face was probably why he wore it so unkempt and his hair didn't look as if it had been combed in some time. He looked…wild. Untamed.

  Clearing his throat, he glanced around the room. "The cabin's not much but there's plenty to eat."

  Sophie turned and looked up at her. "Can we eat now?"

  Keri shushed her and looked back up at the man. He gave her a flickering glance, then crossed the room, added a few logs to the fire and had a good blaze going by the time he stood and faced her again.

  For reasons she didn't understand, her heart started pounding. He was on the other side of the room but his presence seemed to suck all the air from the small space. She blinked, met his gaze, and ignored her pounding heart. "Are you sure about this arrangement?" He raised his hand to scratch at his beard and Keri noticed he hadn't taken off his gloves. She puzzled over the fact until he spoke.

  "I wouldn't have wasted my morning bringing you back with me if I wasn't sure."

  He sounded angry again. Keri glanced away from his disgruntled face. He really was an ill-tempered man. "You live alone?"

  "Yes."

  Turning back to face him, she met his gaze. "What shall we call you?"

  He said nothing for long moments, the silence becoming unbearable before he finally said, "I'm Noah Lloyd."

  Keri stared at him, wondering how he expected her to repay him in such a small space. She looked at Aaron and gave him a smile. "Take Sophie by the fire so she can get warm."

  Aaron took Sophie's hand and led her away. Mr. Lloyd crossed the room again, closer to where she stood but still too far away for her to talk to him without the kids hearing.

  She took a tentative step toward him, then another, his suspicious eyes narrowing the closer she got. When Keri was sure Aaron and Sophie Ann were out of hearing range, she wondered how to word what needed to be said.

  A simple glance at his face and her confidence wavered. Could she really do this again? A small voice in the back of her mind whispered that she didn't have a choice.

  Not able to meet his eyes, she chose to stare at his chest instead. "Not that I'm ungrateful for your generosity, but your cabin doesn't offer much in the way of privacy, Mr. Lloyd."

  He glanced a
cross the room, his brow scrunching as if thinking. "I can hang a blanket by the bed. It isn't much but it'll have to do."

  Keri's stomach rolled. Did he expect her to spread her legs with her children in the same room with her? "When?" The word came out as a soft, breathy whisper.

  "When what?"

  She finally met his eyes. "When would you like payment for your hospitality?"

  He stared at her for long minutes, confusion clouding his face. When it cleared, dread settled like a stone in her stomach.

  "In the morning will be fine."

  Keri sighed and glanced back at Aaron and Sophie. They were still by the fire, chatting softly. "If it's all the same to you, Mr. Lloyd, I'd just as soon get it over with." She glanced into the lean-to kitchen and nodded to it with her head. "In there. Aaron will keep Sophie occupied."

  The confusion she'd seen on his face returned, only this time it didn't clear. He stared at her, his eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

  Her face heated until she knew her skin reflected her embarrassment. She lifted her hands, clenched the collar of her shirt in her fingers, and glanced at his face. "For your payment," she said, her voice pitched low so Aaron and Sophie wouldn't hear. "I'd rather not prolong it. It will only make me more uncomfortable."

  The confusion on his face grew. If he was waiting on her to say it point blank, he'd be waiting all night. His eyes suddenly cleared, then widened, before his cheeks darkened to a blistering red. He opened his mouth but closed it with a snap before turning and walking into the kitchen. Keri sighed, told Aaron and Sophie Ann to stay put, and followed him.