by Lori Wilde
“But I’m not brave, Jason. I’m a big coward. I’ve been hurt one too many times, and I know my limitations. I can’t do this. It’s better to part ways before we get more involved.”
More involved.
He was already in deep. But this wasn’t the time to tell her. For once in his life he didn’t know what to do. If he tried to push, he knew she’d run, possibly back to Manhattan. This would take a special set of skills, which he didn’t have at the moment.
Pleading would do no good.
“I have something for Bibi and then I’ll get out of your way,” he said finally.
Walking past her, he tried not to notice she smelled like Christmas cookies. “I’ll need you to open up the French doors around back,” he said as he stepped out into the cold.
A few minutes later he was at her back door with a large box made of plywood, but it had been painted to look like a gingerbread house.
He brought it into the kitchen and carefully sat it next to Bibi and her pups. Then he placed a new fluffy dog bed inside of it.
“This is the front flap. It’s hinged so it can lay flat. When the puppies get a little older and start moving around you can pull it up and attach it to these pieces and it will keep them in. Bibi can still get in and out, but the pups will be contained. Have you thought about how you’re going to find homes for them?”
She shook her head.
“Well, it will be at least six weeks, which will give you some time. It’s good they didn’t come earlier. A lot of times people will rush to buy pets during the holidays and they haven’t really thought it through.”
“You made them a doghouse?”
“It’s not really a house. I designed it. Mike, the EMT you met this morning, built it after they dropped the family from the fire off at the hospital for follow-ups. Working with his hands takes his mind off his day job. And really, it’s just a box with some hinges.
“And Jessie and some of the other guys at the station painted it earlier this afternoon. Jessie thought he would surprise me by helping out, which is why it looks like something out of Hansel and Gretel.”
He’d wanted something a bit more sophisticated for Kristen, but the rookie had been so excited he hadn’t had the heart to tell the man to repaint it.
“Thank you. I can’t believe you were able to do all this.” She gave him another funny look.
“Like I said, I had a lot of help at the fire station.”
He grabbed the pizza box. “You can keep the wine. I like my pizza with beer.” Placing half the pie on a plate, he closed the pizza box. “I’m still kind of hungry, so if you don’t mind I’ll take this.” He held up the box.
“You need to get the pups to the doc in the next week or so. They are more fragile than they look. They’ll need their first set of shots. And you can help Bibi move them to the box, but don’t handle them too much.”
The look of confusion on her face was something he’d never forget. “Okay then.” He kissed her cheek lightly. “Call if you need help with Bibi and the pups. Take care.”
He shut the front door behind him. Women confused him more than the rules of rugby. He had to keep her off kilter, at least, until he could come up with a plan of action to woo her.
As he climbed into his truck, he noticed the curtain on the front window had been pulled back. She watched him. He turned his music up loud and pulled out of her driveway.
But he wasn’t looking forward to what he had to do next. At least he had some pizza as a peace-making gesture.
* * *
“WHAT HAPPENED?” Kristen said to Bibi, as if the dog could answer. “He just...left. Well, he set up a new house for you and then he left. No discussion. No fighting.”
She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this.
You’re an idiot.
Tell me something I don’t know.
She picked up her cell and dialed Callie.
“Yo, what’s up?” her friend asked. “I heard you just got a big present delivered.”
“I need you,” was all Kristen said.
“I’ll be there in five,” her friend replied, and then hung up the phone.
True to her word, Callie stood at her front door dressed in a sexy black dress with heels. She waved to the car that had dropped her off.
“Were you on a date?”
“Yes. Have you opened the wine yet?” She plowed through to the kitchen and opened the wine. “Holy pigs, what in the heck is that?” She pointed to the gingerbread house.
“He made Bibi and her babies a house.”
“Uh, okay. So where is he?” Callie handed her a glass of wine.
After taking a big gulp of the liquid, Kristen sat down at the table.
“I told him that I couldn’t be with him and—wait. You made your date bring you over here? Why didn’t you tell me? This could have waited until later. You can’t do that to the poor guy.”
Callie’s eyebrow shot up. “Like you know anything about men. Trust me, with that guy, absence makes his libido grow fonder. Besides, you said you needed me. I’m here. Focus on you, Kristen. When did he give you the dog house?”
Kristen gave her friend a strange look. Why would it matter? “After, I told him we couldn’t be together” she said.
“Oh, man. He’s so into you.”
“No, you’re wrong. He genuinely cares about Bibi. He’s heroic and wonderful that way. He wouldn’t let personal differences get in the way of taking care of a dog and her pups.”
Callie’s smile grew. “And you are so into him.”
“I can’t be. He’s a fireman. He could die at any moment.”
Her friend picked up a home design magazine from the mail Kristen had dropped on the table, and bopped her on the head with it.
“Ouch. Why did you do that?” Kristen rubbed her head.
“To show you that something could fall from the sky and kill you at any moment. None of us knows how long we have. We could step in front of Santa Claus and his reindeer and it could be over like that!” She snapped her fingers. “He’s the best man you’ve ever dated and you sent him away.”
Kristen didn’t bother to argue. “I knew as soon as he pulled out of the driveway that I had made a colossal mistake. But it’s for the best. I can’t live every day like my mother did. After dad died, she went nuts.”
Callie frowned. “She didn’t go nuts, she was in search of answers. That’s something most people do when they lose someone they love. Granted, from what you’ve said, some of her religious explorations were a bit out there, but she’s happy now. She found her peace. You said so yourself the other day. You told me you remembered your parents loved each other so much that sometimes you felt like an outsider. At least your mom was brave enough to take the risk.”
“Unlike the coward that I am.” Kristen put her head in her hands.
“So what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? He acted like it was no big deal. I mean, you’ve seen him. He could have any woman he wants. I told him why I couldn’t be with him. He brought in the doghouse. He kissed my cheek, and then he left. He was smiling when he got into his truck. I think he was glad. Maybe he felt like things were going too fast. But I don’t think he was that upset about me kicking him out. He’s probably at some bar picking up a girl right now.”
The very idea brought bile to Kristen’s throat.
Callie laughed. “How can you be so naive? He’s a man. He put up a front, that’s what they do. But you’ve wounded his ego with your craziness. It may take some hard work to get him back.”
“That’s the thing. I know it was dumb to let him go, but like I said, maybe it’s for the best.”
“So you won’t be together.” Callie shrugged. “But tell me this. You hear a fire truck in the distance, and you aren’t going to worry about him? I adore you, but you are full of crap. You care about him, and that’s not going to stop.” Callie’s honesty hit a nerve.
Every time she heard a
siren she would wonder.
“No, it isn’t.” Kristen wanted to bang her head on the table. “Oh, man. I’m a bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Yep,” Callie said helpfully.
7
THE PIZZA HAD worked. At least Jason thought it had. Sometimes it was hard to tell. The old man eyed him over his desk at the fire station.
“She needs time,” the chief said. “Women have to come around to things. They have to think it’s their idea.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that what they say about us?”
“Yes. But I know what I’m talking about. Do little things that make her life easier. Things she doesn’t know about.”
“I’m so confused. If she doesn’t know I’m doing them, how is that going to help?” Jason couldn’t believe he was taking advice from the chief, but the old goat had the happiest of marriages.
“Boy, have you learned nothing from this job? When you do an unselfish deed it comes back to you tenfold.”
“I’m telling you, it’s the Christmas curse. I was thinking about it on the way over here. She’s the best thing in my life, and she doesn’t want me. Even though I know she cares about me.”
The chief pounded his fist on the desk. “Boy, that curse is a bunch of hooey. Sure, you’ve had some rough times around the holidays. But so do a lot of people. They don’t let it get in the way of doing what they want. Are you really going to let this woman go because you are afraid of some curse?”
Jason bristled. “I’m not afraid of anything. You—I’m not afraid.”
“If you say so.” The chief drummed his fingers on the desk with his eyebrow raised.
That wasn’t true. He was afraid of losing Kristen. Every time he thought about it, it gnawed at his gut.
Jason sat back resigned. “Just tell me what to do.”
The chief frowned. “She’s in charge of this big shindig. You help make sure it goes according to plan. Whatever she needs, you be there for her, but not in a pushy way. You’ve been to enough of those meetings to know where the strengths and weaknesses are. Plan ahead, boy. You just need to use that brain of yours.”
Jason hated when the old man was right, and he always was.
* * *
“THE FLU?” Kristen squawked. She sat down on one of the silk-covered chairs in the gala ballroom. Around her was a flurry of activity as the decorations were going up. Crystal snowflake centerpieces were put in place and holly and ivy added to them. A wild, candy-cane profusion of red-and-white chrysanthemums filled the middle of the snowflake centerpieces like the promise of spring ripe in the icy winter. Overhead, workmen strung up the last strand of soft white twinkle lights between the chandeliers. Each strand boasted silver tinsel sparkling like a snowfall, radiating from the central focal point of the grand tree. A winter wonderland with just the right frosting of color. But even the festive trimmings couldn’t make her feel better now. She blinked away tears and her hand tightened around the cell.
“Most of my team is out,” said the caterer. “We have part of the order done, but none of the hors d’oeuvres or canapés. The pastry chef and his assistant work in another building and are fine. They have the desserts and pastries done. The meats are prepared, just need to be stuck in the ovens. But the rest is what needed to be prepped and cooked today. I’m sorry, but it is not going to happen.” He coughed and it sounded like he had the plague.
What am I going to do? The universe really had been playing wicked games lately. Kristen was ready throw up her hands.
“My pastry chef, Joseph, is on the way with what we have prepared. None of it has been contaminated.”
This could not be happening. Party 101 was that the food had to be amazing and there had to be more than enough.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Nothing like this has ever happened before, but this stuff went through my entire staff in one day. Two of them are in the hospital with dehydration.”
People were in the hospital, and all she could worry about was how to feed two hundred people with no hors d’oeuvres? Though this wasn’t the kind of party where chips and dip would suffice. It was Christmas Eve, folks were dressing up, dusting off their checkbooks. They expected to be fed well.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said with genuine remorse. “Take care of yourself. We’ll manage on this end.” She thanked the caterer and hit the off button.
She was a good cook, but she didn’t think she could pull off that much food in six hours. Numbness took over her body. She had prepared for every kind of pitfall except this one. It was Christmas Eve, the restaurants in town would be closing early, and they wouldn’t be able to fulfill an order like this.
“What’s wrong?” That deep voice that turned her insides to mush invaded her thoughts.
“It’s okay, Jason. I’ll figure it out.” She chanced a glance up at his face. It was a big mistake. Every time she looked at the man her heart tugged and there was this voice that chanted, “stupid, stupid, stupid.” She really hated that voice.
“What’s wrong?” he asked again.
“The catering team has the flu. I don’t have hors d’oeuvres or canapés,” she explained.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said as he pulled out his phone.
“Jason, you don’t understand. This is food for two hundred people, no one can help us at this point.”
He’d been coming to her rescue all week, though she didn’t realize it until earlier in the day.
At the beginning of the week, five of the fourteen chandeliers that were to hang in the ballroom had been damaged. She had called every lighting company in a five-hundred-mile radius and no one had any. Later that evening, five chandeliers had arrived. They were perfect for what she needed. When she’d asked around, no one knew who had sent them.
The big Christmas tree, which was to be the main focal point, had been delayed because of weather. But before she could get to the venue that afternoon she received a message from one of the committee members that there was an even bigger tree, already decorated beautifully, waiting for her.
Miss Agnes found out from the chief that Jason was behind all the last-minute saves. It had accidentally slipped when they’d been at the diner that morning for an early coffee.
“That boy can work magic like no one I know,” said the elderly woman. “I heard he drove all the way to the city to get those lights. And that they had used the fire truck to help transport the tree they found. He’s a good boy.”
Yes, he was a very good boy.
And was never far from her.
“I said, I would take care of it,” he insisted gruffly. Then he walked off with his phone. The past week they had been polite to one another. More than once, she had thought about apologizing. She wanted to tell him that it was all a big mistake and that she was a fool. But she lacked the courage.
“It’s funny.” An old man with a white beard and big belly sat down beside her. “That we can’t always see what is best for us.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” she said.
Who was this man?
“I should have begun with an introduction,” he said as if he had read her mind. “I’m Chris Clausen, the Santa you hired for tonight.” He held out a hand and she shook it.
She remembered now. He’d been locked up and blamed for the fire at the Price Mansion, but his attorney had him cleared of all charges. It was Miss Agnes who said she should hire him. It was the least the town could do for all the trouble they’d put the poor man through.
There was something about him that made her feel calmer. She was glad Miss Agnes had made the suggestion.
“And I was just saying that sometimes what is best for us is right before our eyes,” Mr. Clausen continued. “But we can’t see it because of the obstacles we place there.”
He moved his chair slightly and Jason’s backside was in full view. Surely the old man couldn’t be talking about her favorite fireman.
“I’m sure you’re right.” She didn’t know
what else to say. She glanced at her phone. “I better get going. So much to do.”
He touched her hand lightly. “It’s going to be a beautiful party—magical, I do believe.” He smiled and she couldn’t help but do the same.
“Thank you.”
Jason was still on his phone.
Yes, they would need a little magic to survive this night.
* * *
JASON WASN’T A big fan of ties and suits, but the Firemen’s Annual Christmas Eve Ball was a formal affair. He also wanted to look his best for Kristen. She had been so stressed the last week.
While she put on a mask of confidence for the committee, he could see her unraveling, little bits at a time. He couldn’t blame her. She had been hit with one drama after another. The universe was definitely conspiring against her. He’d done his best to counteract the trouble, and was exhausted from the effort.
But it had been worth it. He glanced around the room. It was beautiful. Her designs were perfect for the space. Everything glittered. All around him people chatted and smiled, which was always a good sign.
But he couldn’t find her anywhere.
“Merry Christmas,” a deep voice said from behind him.
He turned to find Santa standing there. At least, the Santa the committee had hired to take pictures with the guests.
“Merry Christmas,” Jason said.
The old man stared at him and Jason began to feel uncomfortable.
“Is something wrong?” Jason asked.
“Oh, no. From what I understand you’ve been a very good boy this year, and you’re going to get exactly what you want. That Christmas curse of yours will be broken.”
Jason laughed. “So you’ve been talking with the chief. Sorry Santa, but what I want this year, even you can’t bring me.”
“Ho, ho, ho.” The old man laughed. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Just keep doing what you are doing. And if you have a chance to dance, take it.”
Jason had no idea what the man was talking about. He hoped that he was more coherent with the guests.