The Christmas Gift [Book One in the Ladies of Legend Christmas Anthology]

by Janet Eaves

  She wrapped herself tightly in a thick sweater that had seen better days as the constant opening and closing of the door had dropped the temperature in the house. But she knew as soon as Jack was done they'd stoke up the embers, load up wood in the fireplace and have a roaring fire going which would reheat the house quickly. By the time they finished the meal and had taken their chairs in front of the fire for an after dinner drink, she knew it would be too late to call her mother-in-law.

  Christina knew she was being a chicken, but the thought of telling her late husband's mother about having taken in a man who looked like an older version of her son, and actually doing it were miles apart. She was afraid of what such a thing would do to Margaret. Would it get her hopes up? Would she condemn Christina for taking a man to her bed when there was still a small smidgen of hope that Johnny was still alive? Would she think Christina completely crazy, perhaps even a slut? She would hate to lose her mother-in-law's good opinion.

  Margaret had meant so much more to her than Johnny ever really had. If it hadn't been for Margaret's grace and help, she knew she would never have survived the last few years so well. Her own parents hadn't exactly washed their hands of her, but they hadn't really ever forgiven her for going against their wishes when she married Johnny, and the relationship was still cool between them. She hadn't and wouldn't ever let them know that they had been right about her being too young to marry. As far as she was concerned, it became irrelevant the day Lisa was conceived.

  She watched as Jack carried in the last armload and turned to lock the front door. She couldn't believe how well he was doing now and she'd wanted to touch him so many times throughout the afternoon after returning from town, but had restrained herself, telling herself she had to talk to Margaret first.

  It was a relief to decide that she couldn't talk to Margaret yet. At least not tonight. With her mother-in-law's sister, Mary, and her husband there visiting, Margaret and Lisa would be completely busy, so there was little chance anyone would contact her either, before Christina got her nerve up. At least she hoped not. As far as she knew, Margaret didn't keep close ties with anyone in Legend anymore, other than her sister. She'd moved on with a very active social life of her own in West Palm Beach. And why would anyone bother to call Mary Roberts just because her niece-in-law had bought two boxes of condoms and had a “relative” visiting. Surely, no one would do such a thing. Lord, she hoped no one would!

  She exhaled heavily, wondering if her motives were pure or selfish. Probably both, she decided, rising to join Jack where he stacked the last piece of wood. “I've made chili and salad. But I thought we might try out the sofa first."

  Jack turned to her with a smile. “Do we get to open box number one?"

  Christina giggled and nodded. “Yes."

  "Give me a few minutes to shower and meet me there."

  Christina poured herself a glass of wine and waited. Feeling a little silly, she rose and went to the old radio that sat on the equally old table at the corner of the living room. Christmas tunes played softly as she returned to the sofa. With an eye towards neatness she scanned the room, then did so again, realizing she never really looked at the place she called home. There wasn't much about the farmhouse that she'd changed in the years since Johnny brought her here to live.

  There really hadn't been the money for major updates, and she hadn't ever really given thought to minor ones until she saw all the redecorating her neighbor Winnie Butler had done a couple of months before. The changes that she'd made hadn't only included the house. She'd also caught herself a fine looking man who was moving to Legend to work for the sheriff's department as soon as his contract was up with the ATF. Winnie and Tom were to be married in January, and as much as she wished her friend well, she envied her the new and exciting life she was about to start.

  Which was not something she would have felt before meeting Jack.

  She glanced back towards the door leading down the hall to the bathroom. Hearing the water being shut off, she bit her bottom lip, excited and a little nervous. It was true she barely knew him, though it felt like she'd known him for years, but she couldn't help but wonder what if.

  What if he was the man she was supposed to have in her life?

  What if they gave more than sex a shot? Could it and would it lead to love?

  She knew she liked him. A lot. And the sex was incredible-so incredible she was antsy to have him join her now. But what if that's all they really had? Did she risk her heart again? Did she also risk Lisa's?

  "Hey."

  Christina looked up to find him standing before her, bare except for the white towel hanging low on his hips. The white terry cloth was bright against his dark skin, the folds barely long enough to cover him properly.

  She grinned and rose to her feet. “I'm having wine. What can I get you?"

  He flicked the closure of the towel, making it fall to the floor. “You."

  Christina approached him, taking him into her hand. “That sounds even better."

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  Chapter Thirteen

  His kisses were what dreams were made of, Christina decided, allowing him to make her dizzy as she stroked his penis, sandwiched between them. He released her lips and ground himself against her hand, and her hand against her belly. She slid her other hand to the small tattoo which had turned out to be a tiny nautical star. She had no idea what it symbolized, and doubted he did either, so she'd never mentioned the marking.

  Jack pulled back, taking her hand from his sex, a no, no gleam in his eyes and the slight shaking of his head. “I want this to last more than two minutes, and that's about all I'm gonna have if you don't stop."

  Christina felt wicked, something both new and thrilling. She advanced on him and went down to her knees, grateful the braided rug offered protection from the hard floor. Jack growled as she grasped him again with one hand, cupping his balls with the other. Her thoughts flittered to the birthmark, but she knew she wouldn't need to look to see if it was there.

  Not only was Jack an entirely different personality than Johnny, he was hung slightly heavier. Though their size differences were minute, the weight, length and girth in her hand was not. And neither was Jack's technique, something she was determined to master herself. She grinned up at him before taking the head into her mouth. Jack jerked, causing her to release him, but she pulled him back and sucked him deeply in.

  Though new at this, she mimicked what he'd done to her, using her teeth to scrape, her tongue to soothe, and suction to entice. His growl of pain or approval encouraged her to continue, had her setting a pace that was slow and tantalizing, fast and hard, then slow and tortuous.

  He grasped the sides of her head, pulling her way from him, then lowered himself to join her on the rug. “Lady, you can do that all night long if you want to, but I never get mine until you get yours."

  Since that suited her just fine, Christina allowed him to peel the old sweater from her shoulders, another thermal shirt from her body, and the sweat pants and panties from her hips and legs. His mouth went on a tour of discovery, finding spots that tickled, spots that soothed, spots the made her inhale sharply, and some that had her wanting that long, thick length of him inside her, filling her, revving her up, sending her into a spin so hard and fast she could only hold on for dear life.

  He didn't disappoint, bringing her to climax again and again, until exhausted, satiated, and more happy that she'd ever been in her life, Christina knew that she'd never wanted their time together to end.

  For the following week, they continued working together, playing together, making love two, three, sometimes four times a day. The morning of Christmas Eve, she awoke nestled into his side, beneath his armpit, to find him staring at her.

  "Tomorrow is Christmas."

  Christina nodded, sliding up to give him a gentle good-morning kiss. “I know."

  "I've been thinking about it and have decided that I should probably leave."

  The knock
to her heart felt more like a horse's kick. “No."

  Jack frowned down at her. “Your mother-in-law and daughter will be home tomorrow. How will it look if I'm all nestled cozy in your bed?"

  Christina knew he was right, but she had never known a time of such joy as she'd shared with Jack over the past couple of weeks. “You could marry me."

  Jack sat up, taking her with him. He leaned against the old oak headboard as Christina settled into a sitting position facing him, her legs crossing ankle over and under calf muscle.

  Jack studied her face as if committing it to memory. He took her right hand, playing with her fingers, studying them while his fingers worked in-between and around hers. Silence filled the room for several seconds. And she remained quiet also, knowing his mind was turning over and over what she'd said.

  He finally glanced up at her, smiling sadly. “I would marry you in a minute. But we don't know who I am, or anything about the life I lead somewhere else."

  Christina acknowledged his statement with a nod, but she wasn't willing to give up so easily. “Then you stay here and we work it out until you remember."

  "And if I don't?"

  Christina untangled her legs and crawled forward to straddle him. “Then we work it out until we die. Eventually there has to be some way to allow us to make a family.” She searched his face. “If I'm not being presumptuous, and that's really what you want, too."

  Jack kissed her long and hard, then held her tight against his chest. “I would love to live with you until I die. But what if your daughter doesn't like me? What about the talk in town? I know you say you don't care, but you do. I could see it in the embarrassment you experienced."

  Christina was satisfied to have their discussion with her face gently held against muscular chest. She was tempted to take a flat dark nipple into her mouth, but she knew they really needed to talk, and one wrong—or in this case, right—move on her part would have them doing the wild thing again and nothing but a shattering climax would get settled.

  Personally, she wouldn't mind. But Jack obviously needed to settle things for himself now. “Lisa will adjust. She loves everyone. And I was never ashamed of you. I just hadn't ever bought condoms before and it seemed the entire town showed up for the event. You have to understand, ever since Johnny went missing—according to the United States Marine Corps—and died—according to me—everyone knows I've played the tragic starring role as the perfect widow. I didn't date. I didn't socialize outside of Lisa's school functions. To do so would have been inappropriate, and would have meant having to listen to how sorry everyone was, and how horrible it must all be for me, and on and on. So when I showed up at the drug store, out of the blue, they couldn't help but wonder what in the world I was doing buying a box of condoms."

  "Two boxes."

  Christina giggled. “Two extra large size boxes of condoms, actually. The clerk couldn't find the price and it wouldn't scan.” She glanced up at him. “You can pretty much figure out the rest."

  Jack threw his head back as laugher rumbled out of him. Christina joined him, though even now her cheeks burned at the memory. “It wasn't funny,” she said, catching her breath.

  Jack shook his head though his eyes still held laughter. “No, I'm sure it wasn't.” He sobered. “But what about the next time? This just proves my point."

  "No, it doesn't,” Christina disagreed. “Next time you go in and buy the condoms."

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  Chapter Fourteen

  After a morning of intense lovemaking which in fact used up the last of the two boxes of extra large condoms, Christina got busy cooking treats for tomorrow's desserts, repeatedly checked to make sure her turkey was thawing at the appropriate rate for tomorrow's roasting, and did a little light cleaning with Jack's help in preparation for Lisa's homecoming and Margaret's visit.

  Christina stepped onto the front porch, needing a moment to herself to take in the chill flowing down from the white coated Appalachian Mountains. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if it would be possible to make a quick dash back to the drug store before the roads became too dangerous.

  The temperature had dropped steadily all day as heavy gray clouds moved in quickly, darkened the sky, bringing night early. Lighter snow had given way to ice, mixed with snowflakes which had increased in size and weight. The forecasters were spouting, “Blizzard!" from every local and national news channel and from the oppressive pressure in the air she was afraid they were right.

  She'd tried calling Margaret several times, but the lines were down and she still hadn't taken that first step into the twenty-first century to purchase computer or cell phone. Until now, both had seemed an unnecessary expense. She didn't fear for her mother-in-law, or for Lisa, but was afraid they wouldn't be able to fly in tomorrow if the airports closed, or flights were cancelled. She knew there was a very good chance one or both could happen.

  Disappointment was already settling in. She'd never planned to spend the holiday without her child. Even now, dressed in thermal underwear bottoms and wool sox, Santa was putting together the new Sassy Siren bike Lisa had coveted for the past three months, ever since her best friend Kelly Winthrop had gotten one for her birthday.

  It would break her heart to not have Lisa home to see all the fun new things Santa brought with the bike. But mostly she wanted to give her daughter a hug. Ever since her teacher called the morning before to explain about the class sending the Dear Santa letters out on balloons back before Thanksgiving, she hadn't had any clues as to how Jack had come into her life. Though it was all still a little sketchy from his end, at least now she knew that, through coincidence, or fate, her daughter had brought her a man she knew she was already half in love with.

  She turned, stepping back into the house, closing the door quickly behind her. “It's already getting bad out there. And we're out of condoms."

  Jack stopped turning the wrench and allowed the tall handlebars to fall. “Out? Completely?"

  Christina nodded. “Yes. All twenty of them are gone."

  Jack grinned. “That could be a problem."

  "Indeed."

  He blew out a breath and turned to pull on the thick flannel shirt laying across the couch. He then left the living room, returning moments later with jeans covering his long, long legs. “I'm taking the truck. It'll only take me about twenty-five minutes there and back. Do you need anything else?"

  Christina shook her head. She didn't worry about Jack driving the truck, as he'd driven her all over the county as they'd spent some of their time getting him familiar with the local roads. But the conditions outside were not to be ignored. “I could drive."

  Jack looked at her as if she'd insulted his manhood. She rolled her eyes and handed him the keys. Then reached into her pocket for a roll of bills. He took the money, hesitated, then turned and left, sending a shaft of cold air in as he went out.

  Christina watched at the frosted front window as he got into the truck, turned on the headlights, and was pulling away. She knew that Jack was getting antsy about not having an identity, and therefore being unable to get work, but he'd done so much for her and with her—and yes, even to her—that had improved her life, that she honestly didn't give a hoot. But she knew they'd have to do something to discover who he was as soon as the holidays were over, because Jack was a man's man, and depending on a woman for his livelihood would probably injure his spirit. She'd already seen his frustration, though he was gentleman enough to suck it up and keep moving on, doing whatever needed doing, including making her happy.

  She went about the house looking to make sure all was ready for tomorrow, even though she now feared Christmas would have to be delayed for the Montgomerys of Legend, Tennessee. If only the phone lines worked, she could tell Lisa that Santa had come, and her presents were waiting for her to get home, too. She just didn't want Lisa disappointed. Especially since her own Christmas wishes were all coming true.

  She checked her watch repeatedly, until she began t
o feel alarmed. Thirty minutes had passed. Then forty. And still no Jack. She threw on her heaviest parka, wrapped her face in a soft, tightly crocheted scarf, and covered her head with the coat's fur-lined hat. She pulled on rubber boots, still hoping he'd show up any minute, then stepped outside, alarmed to see slick sheets of ice building over top of and mixed inside the now half-foot of snow.

  Careful, yet hurrying as fast as she could run, Christina slid open the heavy barn doors, relieved ice hadn't yet frozen them closed. She snatched keys from a bent nail and climbed aboard the nineteen fifty-five model, Farm All Cub tractor. Johnny had finally taught her how to drive it a few years into their marriage, but it had been a long time ago, and the tractor hadn't been started since her neighbor used it over a year ago.

  She said a quick prayer, pushed in the clutch, pulled out the choke, and turned the key. Like music to her ears the engine hit and the little rain cap at the top of the exhaust pipe jumped up and down, clattering for all it was worth. She struggled with the ball-topped long gear shifter between her legs, grinding the gears for several seconds before she was able to push it into first. As she'd been taught, she slowly lifted her left leg, while simultaneously slowly pushing on the gas pedal with her right foot. A hard jerk moved the tractor forward, nearly unseating her, and caused the tractor to cough as if it might die, so she jerked up the hand gear which sent her flying forward, out of the barn, and into the heavily falling snow. She pushed the hand gear back close to an idle so the tractor slowed and moved at a snail's pace towards the snow-covered gravel lane.

  Exhaling a shaky breath she navigated as best she could to stay on the driveway, relieved she didn't have to worry about ditches on either side since Mr. Hobbs from up the road had graveled and graded the driveway for her two years earlier. The quarter of a mile driveway took several minutes to traverse, but as she rounded the last curve her heart nearly stopped.