by Jenny Lykins
Jared followed his head down, trying not to stagger from the vertigo of having one's head bounce down the stairs. This was not his favorite trick.
Dot's scream at the sight of his headless body would have done a horror movie proud.
Chuck scrambled over the arm of the couch, grabbed his rigid wife and shoved her toward the door.
"Is there a problem?" Alane asked with a straight face.
The couple ignored her as they fought to get the door open, Dot still screaming and Chuck puffing with exertion, whining like a puppy.
The door flew open and they shot out, one after the other, onto the porch, down the steps, then loped across the snow to their car. Before the doors were even shut, Chuck had the car in reverse and backing out of the drive.
While Alane watched them flee, Jared recovered his head, tucked it under his arm and joined her at the door. She watched, laughing and holding her side, as the car fishtailed down the road.
"Oh, my," she breathed as she closed the door and turned. "Do you think we've seen the last- Oh, Jared, put your head back on."
*******
Alane hummed along with the Christmas carol on the radio as she turned onto the road leading to the cabin. She braced herself for Jared's arrival, and the moment the car passed over his ancient property line, he appeared in the passenger seat.
Ha! She didn't even flinch that time.
"Do you have any idea how long you were gone?"
She could almost hear his foot tapping, like a father whose daughter stayed out past curfew. She looked at her watch.
"Three hours and thirty-seven minutes. Give or take a few seconds."
He almost growled. "Well, I hope it was important."
She just smiled mysteriously and thought about what his reaction would be when she gave him the gift she'd been working on all afternoon.
"So what did you do while I was gone?"
"I sulked."
She threw her head back and laughed as she pulled into the drive and turned off the car. At least he was honest.
"Poor baby. I'll make it up to you this evening. What would you like to do. Just name it."
The scowl left his face and his brow quirked as he clearly contemplated the possibilities. He followed her into the cabin, and she could almost hear the gears turning to come up with something she wouldn't normally agree to.
"Hmm," he teased. "This is a very interesting proposition. I certainly don't want to waste the opportunity."
Alane smiled indulgently as she shrugged out of her coat and set her bag of art supplies on the end table. How much could he come up with, considering how sorely limited his options were? She headed for the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine, then stirred up the fire and laid a few logs on. With a playful grimace, she plugged in the lights to the Christmas tree.
"A work of art," she reassured herself under her breath, then she stretched out on the rug in front of the fire and let her muscles relax, one by one. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been all day. But she'd achieved what she set out to do, and now she could just sit back and enjoy Jared's reaction.
Tomorrow. She'd give him her gift on Christmas Eve.
"I know how you can make it up to me," Jared interrupted her musings with a low voice near her ear.
Alane raised her head, surprised to see him stretched out beside her.
"I think I'm afraid to ask."
"Let me in your head again."
Just his saying the words caused her to go all warm and tingly. His persuasive smile didn't hide the raw need in his eyes. She swallowed and bit her lower lip.
"All right," she whispered, scared of opening up that much; wanting to open up desperately. Then a thought occurred to her. "This won't hurt you will it? Like when you touched me?"
A sadness flashed in his eyes and he looked away, but when he looked back it was gone.
"No." He shook his head. "It'll be like when you painted. Since I'm not touching you, it won't take much energy."
"What are you going to do?"
Almost before she finished her question, he rolled over, melting into her, turning her blood to warm, heady brandy. She sighed, then gasped when a swirl of...feelings...touched her in ways words could never describe. Tenderness assaulted her senses. Love - his love - coiled in a tingling spiral in her chest. Visions of him making love to her floated through her mind and she felt as if it were real. Her bones turned to putty and sensations intoxicated her, heightening her senses, smoldering in her blood.
"Oh, Jared, do you feel it too?" She wanted to share this with him. Wanted to give back to him what he was giving to her.
She felt as if strong arms cradled her against a hard, warm chest; as if her head nestled broad shoulders.
She had no idea how long he bombarded her with one dizzying sensation after another. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours.
Finally, reluctantly, the sensations ebbed, and the warmth of him glided from her body, leaving her with her mind spinning and her body aching for more.
She turned to him and wanted to hold him so badly she could cry.
"Crying won't help," he responded to her unspoken thought.
He reached out his hand and touched her again, and suddenly she felt his torment. His agonizing torment to want. To love. Torment at being nothing more on this earth than a sigh of wind through the trees.
"Oh, Jared." She willed away the burning in her eyes. He wouldn't want her pity or her sympathy. He'd delved into her thoughts, her mind, and instead of taking, he'd given of himself, opened himself to her and let her feel his joy, his wonder, and his agony.
And neither of them would ever be the same.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The distant church bell tolled as Jared walked along the lake in the pre-dawn hours of Christmas Eve. A thin layer of ice crusted the water along a shore as black and as cold as his mood.
He had to let her go. He'd known all along that this was just a brief moment in time for him to enjoy now and savor for decades to come. A keepsake of a precious memory. But he'd managed to tell himself that it didn't have to end.
Now he knew it must, for her sake, not for his.
Two days left together and then she would leave. And if she ever came back, he would not appear to her. Not ever. And eventually she would give up, go away, and live a normal life.
Perhaps she would marry David and have the children she denied wanting. He cared for her, Jared knew that for sure. He'd dipped far enough into David's thoughts that day to know that the man really did love Alane, even if he didn't understand her.
The thought of her leaving tore at Jared's chest, but the thought of what might happen if she didn't leave tore at him more.
He sensed her waking and was at her side in the space of a breath. He found her as he had left her, curled on her side, buried under a mound of blankets. He lay down beside her, watching, memorizing, as her eyes slowly opened and a soft, lazy grin curved her lips.
"You weren't watching me sleep, were you?" she asked, her voice husky from disuse.
"One of my favorite pastimes."
She faked a yawn that turned into a real one. "That's as bad as watching somebody fish."
He forced a grin. "That's what you said about painting, and look what it got you."
"Mmmm," she purred. "You do have a way of changing reality."
He only wished.
She rolled over, rolled into him, and he gasped at her unexpected move.
"I love it when you hold me," she murmured in a voice as soft and smooth as a kitten. He closed his eyes and willed the wrenching pain in the center of his soul to go away. How could he live without her? How could he continue to exist with her?
He lay there, holding her the only way he could as she dozed. When he could bear no more he rose and moved himself to the porch, staring out at the lake until he heard her moving around upstairs. She'd just come down the stairs when he entered the living room.
"Hey, you deserted me."
He shrugged and kept his tone light. "You were snoring."
She snatched a throw pillow and flung it at him."I don't snore!"
"No, and I don't walk through walls."
She "hmmphed," tossed her head and prissed into the kitchen.
Faith, every move she made, every breath she took made him love her even more.
He wandered into the kitchen and she playfully ignored him until he stepped in her way one too many times. With a giggle, she conceded defeat.
"But I still don't snore."
Her mood remained high - down right perky - all day long, while he fought to live up to his words and not mourn the future. In truth, it dented his ego that she so easily staved off her dread of their parting.
By evening he was misery incarnate, and Alane was all smiles and sparkling eyes. He'd had the devil's own time of keeping on a cheerful face, and the task became harder and harder as he watched the clock tick away the minutes.
"Do you want to watch another movie? It's a Wonderful Life is coming on. No matter how many times I see it, I always cry at the end."
"No," he sighed. "I think I've had all the Christmas spirit I need. Haven't you?"
She smiled mischievously and leaned into him.
"On the contrary. I can't seem to get enough Christmas spirit."
Her double meaning only depressed him further. They had such little time to get enough of each other.
"Oh, come on, sour puss. You've been down in the dumps all evening."
"I have not."
"No? And I don't snore."
He smiled at that. She could always make him smile.
"I bet I know something that'll cheer you up."
He doubted it very seriously.
"What?"
He watched as she dropped to her knees and rummaged under the hideous Christmas tree. From within the folds of the sheet that was the "snow" beneath the tree, she pulled a small, flat box. She'd wrapped it in red foil with little silver bells in the ribbons. She jingled them at him.
"I'm going to figure out a way to put these around your neck when we're done."
He tried hard to keep an expectant smile on his face as she scooted back next to him on the floor.
A gift. What could she possibly give him that she could wrap in a box? What could he ever hope to give her in return?
"Merry Christmas. Open it. Oh, you want me to? Okay." She grinned up at him and tore into the foil with as much excitement as if it were for her. When the wrapping fell away, she stopped before taking off the lid.
"Wanna guess?"
He arched a brow at her and scanned the gift.
"A tie."
"Nope. Half right. It's a tie box. But..." she lifted the top and folded back the tissue paper, one layer at a time, "...it's big enough to hold a cabin."
The last of the tissue paper fell away to reveal a long, folded legal document that was obviously a deed.
Oh, sweet Gabriel, what had she done?
"I bought it this afternoon." She pulled the deed from its bed of tissue paper and flipped it open with a flick of her wrist. "I don't have to leave day after tomorrow. The cabin's ours and nobody can make me leave."
His split second of pure elation died with the agonizing sensation of being torn in two.
He couldn't allow her to stay.
"Alane...I..."
"I know. You're speechless. But it's okay. I took the money dad left me and paid for it. Even the bank doesn't have a claim on it."
Her brilliant smile didn't start to fade until she realized he didn't mirror her enthusiasm.
"What's wrong? We're supposed to be doing the dance of joy right about now."
He closed his eyes and rammed splayed fingers through his hair.
"Alane, you can't stay here."
"Of course, I can. I own - "
"No. Don't you see? It's impossible. As much as I love you, I could never spend the rest of your life with you and not touch you. Not go further than we did the night we danced. Last night was one-sided, Alane. I felt images of emotions, but that was all. I'd touch you again, even without your permission, and I'd cease existing with the taste of you on my lips, the feel of you lingering in my arms. And I'd go happily because I've loved and been loved.
"But you would never forgive yourself. Ever. I've known enough of your soul to know that you would blame yourself. You'd mourn me for the rest of your life and grow to hate yourself in the process."
He rose and paced the floor, shoving his hand through his hair and making a fist at the crown.
"You need children, Alane, and a husband who can touch you, pull you into his arms and comfort you when you've had a bad day. One who can make love to you. Hell, you need a husband who can open a door for you when your hands are full or help you decorate a Christmas tree. And you need one you can touch as well. It's a painful, empty feeling to never hold another human being in your arms." He pinned her with his gaze as he paced. "If you don't believe anything else I've ever told you, believe that."
He stopped his pacing and turned to her. He didn't bother to hide his tortured pain. He wanted her to know he loved her and to know that what he was about to do did not come easy.
She looked up at him. Her amazing brown eyes swam in tears while glistening drops fell from her lashes and etched silvery trails down her cheeks.
Wordlessly, she reached for him, but her hands grasped nothing but empty air.
He swallowed and closed his eyes.
"See?"
As he vanished, he heard her cry, "Jared, don't!"
*******
Alane saw him in the distance, his ghostly figure paled by the moonlight that filtered through him. She knew she would find him here. Whenever he was deep in thought, he stared at the lake. It made sense that he would go there when he was troubled.
She had to make him listen; had to convince him that somehow they could make this work. The closer she got, the faster she walked. Her breath exploded in white clouds as she hurried to catch up with him.
She got within a few feet before he raised his head and spun around.
"Jared, I - "
Suddenly the snow bank fell away and she felt herself slipping toward the water. Her hands flailed as her body slammed into the bank and slid down, breaking the thin crust of ice and sliding into the freezing water.
Within seconds her heavy clothing absorbed the frigid waters and pulled her down, sucking her deeper into the numbing lake.
Jared bellowed her name and scrambled to the edge on his hands and knees, reaching for her hand that grasped at the slippery bank. His hand passed through hers once, twice, then solid fingers gripped her wrist and pulled.
"Jared, don't! I can - "
"Shut up and help me! Can you get a footing?"
She struggled to find solid ground beneath her, but her feet slid down the steep slope under the water.
"No. My clothes are pulling me down! Let go! Let me try to get my jacket off!"
"If I let you go, you'll die!"
"If you don't let me go, we'll both die!"
He held onto her, his fingers steel bands around her wrist. He heaved and she rose a couple of inches, then sank back deeper than ever. Her legs were going numb from the cold and her teeth chattered so hard they hurt.
"Jared, let go!"
He pulled again, yanking her higher this time. But his grip started to fade. His solid fingers took on a vapory look.
"Oh, please! Let go before you die!"
Another yank pulled her out of the water, then the ironclad grip came back for a split second as he heaved her up to safety.
His fingers faded from her arm, and she rolled over to see him fall back against the snow, his body nothing more than a faint shadow against the silvery white.
"Jared, no! Don't go!" She reached for him. Tried to crawl to him, but her legs refused to move.
He rolled his head to hers, gave her a weak smile and stretched out his hand.
"I love you, Alane." As his
words faded, so did his body. She watched in agony as the shadow of him turned to mist and swirled away on a gust of wind.
She buried her face in the snow and screamed, her body shivering, her mind denying his death.
In the distance, the muffled sound of a church bell began its midnight toll.
She lay there, racked with violent shivers, drowning in guilt and misery.
Why had she come looking for him? If she had stayed in the cabin, he would have come back. Sooner or later he would have come back to her. And even if he hadn’t, at least he would still be on this world. It tore at her heart and battered her soul to think that she was the one for whom he’d given up his existence. Damn his wife! Damn his mother-in-law! And damn herself for causing this.
The toll of the church bell rang for the twelfth time. Christmas morning.
She looked up at the midnight sky, at the millions of stars all blurred together through her tears.
“Goodbye, Jared.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I love you.”
Then, miraculously, a warmth surrounded her as she felt a jacket being wrapped around her. Her gaze flew to the man kneeling above her, his face a black silhouette against the moon.
"Who..." she managed to croak through chattering teeth and a throat thick with tears.
"Shut up and help me."
Jared! He moved to wrap his sweater around her legs, a sweater still warm from the heat of his body. Moonlight fell across his face, revealing solid features, warm and already red from exposure to the cold.
"Jared!" she cried, and staggered upright into his arms. "You're alive!" Her frozen fingers touched his face, encountered solid, warm cheeks, smiling lips. "How?"
He worked to wrap her in his dry things. "I don't know. I felt myself fade, and just as everything went black, a magnificent angel appeared out of the darkness. He said the curse had been broken. That Katherine knew I’d tried to love her. It wasn’t her mother’s words that kept me from peace, but my own guilt.” He finished wrapping her in his warm clothes, then a look of awe spread across his face. “He reached out and touched me here,” Jared held Alane’s hand to his heart, “then he whispered, ‘Never forget the greatest gift.’ Then all of a sudden I felt cold and wet. And whole." He seared her with a smile.