by Janet Eaves
With its wheels up in the air, and the truck on its back much like Mr. Tompkins waiting to get his tummy rubbed, her white pickup laid where her mail box should have been. Forcing herself to remain calm, though her insides were a jittering mass of nerves, Christina maneuvered the tractor next to the truck before knocking it out of gear, putting on the footbrake, and jumping down to see if Jack was still inside the cab. It was both a relief and frightening to see him struggling to get out of the seatbelt with blood dripping from his upside-down head.
"Hold on! I'm coming."
Christina returned to the tractor, opened the built-in toolbox and pulled out a hammer and hunting knife. She was glad Johnny's things were still there just as he'd left them, since she needed them to release Jack from his prison. She returned to the truck, going to the passenger side, and kneeling to peer in.
She sent Jack an encouraging smile. “Turn your head the other way,” she shouted, hoping he could hear her over the thick glass and howling wind.
As soon as his head was turned, she hit the glass hard, but barely shattered it. She drew back and hit it again, harder, and made a little more progress. With one last hard hit, she finally cracked it enough she could tap at the tempered material until she broke through the plastic that held it all together.
With the hunting knife clamped between her teeth, she crawled in, careful not to cut herself. She took it from her mouth, looked him over, and smiled. “Hi, stranger."
Jack chuckled. “Sorry ‘bout your truck, babe. Damned black ice."
She started sawing at the seatbelt. “Hold on to something so you don't hit your head when I cut through."
Jack held tight to the steering wheel. “I already did."
Christina continued to saw, wishing she'd brought a sharper knife. “I can see that. Are you okay?"
With a plop Jack came down, his head hitting the metal cab, his body folding over like a rag dolls so that his butt and the back of his legs were all she saw. She grabbed at his shoulders as he wiggled, until they had her backing out and him sliding out onto the cold snow.
Exhausted, she helped him sit up, pulled the scarf from around her mouth and neck, and wrapped it around the wound that had reopened at the back of his head. “Come on, let's get you to the house."
"Wait!” Jack winced, then pointed back into the cab. “Don't forget the condoms."
It took half an hour to get back to the house, get Jack inside, then have to fight with him until she allowed him to deliver the tractor to the barn. She waited for him, afraid the cut to the back of his head might be serious. But he'd waved it off, telling her to wait in the house, as soon as he got back he had something important to tell her.
Anticipation had her standing at the chilly front window, awaiting his return. She bit her lip, wondering if he'd decided to propose formally. She wouldn't be averse to the idea. Not at all.
She turned to smile at him when he came in, took his boots off at the door, then smiled at her. “Want to take a hot shower with me?"
Though the question threw her, Christina's body reacted and she was walking across the room to meet him. She kissed him long and hard, enjoying the hard male length of him against her. “Will you scrub my back?"
Laughter lit his eyes. “I'll scrub your everything."
Christina bit his bottom lip, holding it just long enough to make him growl. “What about your head?"
He rubbed himself against her. “You can do anything you want with my head."
She swatted at him. “I meant the cut on your head!"
Jack laughed. “It's a little sore, but fine. I'll let you play nurse later if you want. Right now I have other things aching more."
Since she was in the same condition, she pulled him toward the small bathroom. She'd never taken a shower with a man and the small claw-foot tub would probably make it awkward, but she was willing to try anything with him.
They stripped, leaving a trail of clothing across the living room, down the hall, and on the tiny tiles of the bathroom's floor. Christina reached in and turned on the water, adjusting it as she always did before stepping in.
Within seconds Jack had her in with him, had taken possession of her mouth, and had his hands busy sloshing the water all over her. Her nipples ached, her center throbbed with anticipation of the expected pleasure Jack always brought her. She tore her lips from his, clamping her teeth onto his shoulder, making him jerk against her when she bit too hard.
"My turn.” Jack lifted her, placing her feet on opposite sides of the white tub, ignoring the rip of the old white curtain. He took a nipple into his mouth as one hand anchored her back, and the other moved so he could slip a couple of fingers into her. Her head fell back as the water hit her neck and ran rivers down her chest where Jack suckled and drank from her body.
The pressure she had come to crave from his manipulating touch was building with swift intensity, making her whimper as she tried to fight allowing it to happen too soon. She wanted to build a little control, as her body was lost to her when she was this close to shattering. It wasn't that she minded, but she wanted to prolong the agony that was almost as delicious as the explosion. A cry of anguish ripped from her throat when he hit the spot that took the strength from her knees.
"Let it go, baby. I've got you. Just let it go."
Christina's legs buckled at his plea and Jack pulled her to him, allowing her to slide down his body and anchor herself on his shaft. He took the two steps that had her back against the tiled wall, his hands at her thighs, opening her wider, then he reached back to lock her ankles at his back. He grasped her buttocks and went to work, his manhood so engorged he was nearly tearing her apart.
Her cries mixed with his growls. Her body bowed tight, making her arch into him as a scream rent her throat, and a cry of pure animal fury burst from his. She rode the climax as he continued to stoke and fill her, until he slowly lowered her to her feet.
She leaned into his hard, wet chest, grateful for his strength as she had none of her own. “I'm not sure I can walk,” she said, breathing so hard she could barely get the words out.
Jack chuckled and leaned into her. “Me either. But let's try. Only about ten steps to the bed."
They stumbled their way to her bed, and fell in. Christina curled into him, snuggling against his side. Just as she slid into sleep, it hit her. “We forgot to use a condom again."
The light snoring at her side was Jack's answer.
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Chapter Fifteen
Christina awoke to the aroma of frying bacon and strong coffee, her most favorite combination in the world. She stretched and smiled to herself as little tugs of pain reminded her of how incredible a lover Jack was. He entered the room carrying a tray stacked with pancakes and bacon, and had a mug of what she was certain was coffee along with a small glass of orange juice. She sat up, placed pillows at her back, and allowed him to set the tray over her legs.
He leaned over the tray, giving her the most gentle kiss. “Merry Christmas, beautiful."
Christina's eyes instantly filled as she pulled him back for a second kiss. “Merry Christmas to you."
He grinned and sat down at her side. “I have something to tell you."
Christina bit her lips as she waited. Was this the proposal she'd been hoping for?
Jack took a deep breath. “My name is Jack."
Christina laughed. “I know."
He shook his head. “No. I mean really. My name is Jack. Jack Beck."
Christina sat up straighter. “You remember?"
He nodded. “Yeah. I think maybe the accident last night somehow brought it all back."
"Tell me. Tell me about Jack Beck."
He smiled. “I'm not married."
"Good."
"And I have my own company. Or I did. I need to find out what happened to my equipment when I fell off a utility pole back at Thanksgiving."
Christina could only stare at him, happy for him yet frightened. Now that
he no longer needed her, would he still want her?
"Don't you get it, Chris? I'm back. And if your offer of marriage still stands, I'd very much like to make you mine ... until we die."
Christina couldn't get the tray off her lap quickly enough, but somehow managed to get it to the floor without making a mess. She was in his arms, kissing him all over, thrilled that Lisa had indeed given her the best Christmas present she could have ever hoped for.
"Hello! We made it! Chris? Are you here?"
Christina jerked back, startled to hear the voice of her mother-in-law. Stunned to see the first excited, then clearly surprised face of her daughter as Lisa ran into the room.
Jack quickly stood as she grabbed the sheet close, holding it tight against her naked body. Lisa halted in the doorway, looking from Jack to her and back again. Margaret was there next, her big smile going slack, her eyes looking from Christina to Jack, then she frowned as she looked at him harder. Her legs gave, but Jack caught her before she hit the floor.
Christina found her voice. “Lisa, honey, go get Grammy a cold, wet washcloth."
Lisa looked at her a second longer before turning to leave. Christina rose and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, pulling it on and tying it quickly. Lisa was there in the next second, tentatively handing the wet terry cloth to Jack. She turned to Christina as her face split into a smile. “Merry Christmas, Mommy. I told you I was gonna get a miracle."
Christina hugged her close, kissing her chubby cheeks. “Yes, you did, Baby. I'm so glad you're home.” She glanced at Margaret as she was coming to in Jack's arms.
"Is it you?"
Christina would have laughed at the question as it mimicked Betty Jo's at the Piggly Wiggly, but her sweet friend's reaction was anything but funny. She released Lisa with a kiss to her forehead and approached Margaret. “No. His name is Jack, Margaret. Jack Beck."
A tear rolled down her cheek. “It is you. Oh my God—I never thought—I never dared to hope to see you again."
Tears rolling down her own cheeks as Christina was afraid the similarities between Jack and Margaret's late son were too much for her mind to handle. “No, Margaret. Please listen to me. He isn't Johnny. Johnny is gone."
Margaret looked at her then, noticing the robe. Her brows rose as a smile bloomed across her face. “I know he isn't Johnny, Chris. But he is my son."
Christina slid a glance to Jack, amazed to find him smiling at Margaret. “Jack, tell her who you are."
He turned to Christina and held his hand out. She took it, allowing him to pull her closer to them both. “You're my biological mother?” he asked, looking at the older woman.
Christina turned to him swiftly. “What?"
"I was adopted at birth.” Jack squeezed her hand then turned back to her mother-in-law. “You were the sixteen year old girl who had to give me up?"
Christina was too stunned to move as Margaret nodded.
"I was. My father was a minister. His father was a minister. We were an embarrassment to them both.” She sent Christina a small smile before giving her attention to Jack. “I loved that boy so much, but they made me go to a home until you were born. The only way I was allowed to go back home was to give you up. I was barely sixteen. I hated my parents for a long time, but I had nowhere else to go except back to my house. Jimmy and I married the day I turned eighteen. I was pregnant again immediately, and nine months later Johnny was born. But I never stopped thinking of you."
"I knew about you. My parents told me the whole story, except your name and where you lived. They didn't want me to think you gave me up because I wasn't loved."
Tears streamed down Margaret's face, unchecked. “Then they were the answer to my prayers. Please forgive me."
Jack took her into his arms and held her close. “There isn't anything to forgive. I had a great childhood. I was loved and adored. It broke me for a while when my parents died in an accident that should have never happened, but they taught me that when life pushes you, you push on.” He smiled at Christina. “This is the nicest Christmas present I could ever have."
Lisa looked from one adult to the other. “Well, did Santa come, or didn't he?"
Within minutes they were in front of the tree, Lisa lost in the wonder of her new bike, helmet, knee and elbow pads Christina would insist she wear. She eventually moved on to a set of three new dolls, and all the paraphernalia a little girl would need to take care of them. Margaret couldn't take her eyes off Jack, and Christina had to bank her own need to be near him and touch him, and hoped Margaret would understand that she was now in love with the other son.
She smiled to herself and left the room as tears sprang to her eyes. Busying herself in the kitchen, Christina jumped when Margaret walked up behind her. “Oh, hi."
"You're in love with him.” Never one to squander words, Margaret crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “And you've had sex with him. Just how did all this come about?"
Christina explained about the letter to Santa, Jack's accident, the storm, and finished with the proposal they'd interrupted when they'd arrived. Margaret moved to embrace her. “You look happier than I've ever seen you. I'm so glad you make a habit of falling for my boys."
"I'm pretty happy about it, too. How did you get here? I was afraid you wouldn't make it."
Margaret shrugged. “I saw the forecast so Lisa and I took an earlier flight, yesterday. We've been in town since last night, but the storm was too dangerous to try coming out. With the phones out I couldn't call. This morning Old Tom picked us up in town and rode us out here in the glass enclosed cab of his big tractor. It was a little uncomfortable, but we managed."
"Mommy! Somebody's at the door!"
Frowning, Christina returned to living room to find Lisa standing with the door open to two uniformed men. The reprimand about opening the house to strangers froze on her lips as she recognized the Marine chaplain, though this time he had a different young soldier with him, and they were both shivering. She approached them slowly. “Please, come in out of the cold."
She barely noticed as Lisa ran past her, her little arms loaded with the new dolls, back towards her bedroom. The men stepped into the house and the younger soldier shut the door behind them. Christina felt Jack and Margaret moving up behind her, enclosing her in their warmth. Each one took a hand, and she nodded to the chaplain. “What can I do for you, Sir?"
He moved toward her, a piece of paper folded atop the black leather bound Bible in his hands. “I got this news this morning, and thought you might want to know right away."
Tears smarted her eyes. “They found him."
The Chaplain nodded. “From the report I've been given, he most likely died that day, with his men."
Tears flowed freely as Christina felt Jack move to hug Margaret closer. He also pulled Christina back, encompassing them both in his embrace. She reached out and took the document, a faxed Certificate of Death, on it the date of the terrible massacre. She glanced back up at the Chaplain. “Thank you."
He nodded. “His remains are being shipped home. They should be here by the end of the week. I'll give you a call.” He nodded once, respectfully, before they took their leave. She turned back to Margaret, only to find her smiling through her own tears.
"Now he can rest in peace."
Christina nodded, allowing tears to flow freely as Jack pulled both women into his arms. They stood there silently for long moments, allowing each one to pay tribute to the husband who had taken on a family before growing up himself, the son who'd left his mother's arms too soon, and the brother never known.
"We need to start making arrangements for a service."
Margaret moved from Jack's arms and pulled Christina to face her. “Tomorrow is soon enough. Johnny is coming home."
Christina smiled, and though the tears fell harder, her heart felt peace. “I am celebrating. Today has been a day filled with many gifts. Having the world know Johnny was a man of honor is one more."
She hugged
Margaret hard, glad Lisa was in her room busily playing with her new toys. Christmas Day was not the day to tell her the news. Tomorrow was soon enough for a lot of things.
She turned to Jack, accepting the strong arms folding around her. It felt like she was finally home and all was right with her world. She knew how truly blessed they all were. The boy she'd loved would be remembered with honor. The mother-in-law she cherished would always remain a vital part of her life. The daughter she had, if they kept forgetting those darn condoms, would someday soon possibly have a sibling. And Jack—oh, Jack—would fill her world with love and light.
And, like the reason for the season, it all began with a child.
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About the Author
A Jack of All Trades, Janet Eaves is a wife of 28 years, mother of two daughters, and grandmother to the most incredibly beautiful child in the world. She writes fiction independently as well as collaborating with her SisterWriters Maddie James, Magdalena Scott, and Jan Scarbrough in the Ladies of Legend Series. She runs her husband's contracting business from her home office, works for H&R Block during Tax season (after weeks of recertification classes each summer), and is in the process of building another web based business, while redecorating several rooms in her home. In the midst of all, she is passionate about the written word. An avid reader and passionate writer, she loves nothing more than losing herself in fantasy.
The newly released Claiming the Legend is the first of four novellas in the Ladies of Legend: Finding Home anthology, and Janet's first step into publishing fiction. The story introduces the town of Legend, Tennessee and some of the people who reside there. The story opens with Lilly Peach running for her life, desperately needing a place to hide. She believes she's found obscurity in this small town, nestled at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains . When the Legend of Legend, the popular local high school football coach, takes an interest in her she is thrust into the local spotlight. Unfortunately for her, his ultra-successful football program has garnered national attention as well.