Romancing the Holidays: Twelve Christmas Romances - Benefits Breast Cancer Research

by Crista McHugh

  He turned his headlights to high, found a faint pair of tracks to follow, and steadied the wheel. His pulse thumped a rhythm in the base of his throat, and he hummed a random tune to keep his mind on the road. The snow peppered his windshield, but his wipers kept it clear. At the first intersection, he turned. Bluffet Edge 8 miles, Boston 102 miles, read the sign on the side of the road.

  Diana and her friend lived outside of Boston, she’d told him. They decided to take a road trip down the coast and hadn’t bothered to check the weather before leaving.

  “Boston’s a nice city,” he’d answered, making casual conversation to keep her calm.

  “It is. It’s the best city in the world,” she’d said, with the wide-eyed certainty of someone who’d never lived anywhere else.

  Mick smiled at the thought. Lindsey Point lay halfway between New York and Boston, and most of his friends had visited one city or the other over the years. Good places, fun nightlife, lots to do, people from all walks of life. Now Lucas was actually moving to New York. Never would’ve thought it.

  His radio crackled but fell into silence. One more turn, and then he had less than three miles into downtown Lindsey Point. He’d have to pass the Great White on his way to the Medical Center, but he wouldn’t be stopping. I could’ve moved to Boston, Mick mused as he kept his eyes trained on the road. Two summers ago, he’d dated a woman from that city who’d almost drowned in the bay, out past the lighthouse.

  This handsome guy rescued me from the undertow, she’d joked more than once. Then he rescued me from my single life.

  A few months of bliss had almost turned into a serious romance, but then she’d asked him to move to Boston, and he’d balked. Lindsey Point’s my home, he tried to explain, but she hadn’t bought the excuse. Now he wondered if, deep down, he hadn’t stayed in Lindsey Point for his job or his family, but for Annie. In case she woke up one morning and wanted him the same way he’d been wanting her for years.

  A shadow appeared on the side of the road, and Mick braked. A lone dog trotted along the shoulder. After a moment, it turned into a driveway and headed for an open door, where a silhouetted figure waited for it. “Nothing like going home in a storm, is there?” he said aloud. Then his smile faded. Maybe it was time to call somewhere else home.

  Over half a million people lived in Boston. Why couldn’t he be one of them? It shouldn’t be difficult to find a job, not with his experience. He turned onto the west end of Main Street. Time for a change, like Lucas is doing. Mick knew every house and building he passed. He knew the way the road would curve, and when the beach would stretch to the water on his left. He knew the smells of this town, the sounds of it, in every season and every time of day.

  The snow eased for a few moments, and when his gaze cut to the beach, he could just make out the dark, empty lighthouse stretching into the sky. He’d taken a few girls there, felt them up, and made them sigh under the stars. Never Annie.

  Never anything with Annie, until tonight, and look where that had gotten him. Lights caught his attention, and he turned to catch a glimpse of the Great White as he drove by. “Finn got the generator running,” Mick said to himself. “Good for him.” He saw a few figures moving around inside, but he didn’t slow down.

  When he reached the Medical Center, he reached over to the passenger seat to grab Diana’s purse. Looked like one of those designer ones, bright orange with fancy gold plates and a long strap. He hadn’t paid any attention to it before, but as he jumped from the truck and met the nurses under the ER canopy, he caught sight of a printed key fob that dangled from the strap.

  Don’t let someone become a priority in your life when you’re only an option in theirs.

  The saying from the bumper sticker, only it wasn’t what he’d thought. Mick laid the purse on the girl’s chest as two nurses helped her onto a stretcher. “That’s my all-time favorite quote,” she said as she fingered the fob. “It’s true, don’t you think?” She looked past him, up to the still-falling snow, and her next words fell heavy on Mick’s ears. “If you give your whole heart to someone, but they don’t do the same, then they’re just taking advantage of your devotion, and you’ll get hurt big-time.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Right?”

  Mick watched the stretcher disappear into the bright white interior of the Med Center as the snow covered him and chilled him straight through. “Right,” he finally said, though Diana couldn’t hear him. Big-time.

  * * * * *

  “Ready to push again?” Annie asked. Perspiration stood out on Julia’s face, but she nodded. Gabe held her hand. Finn and Brady stood close by, waiting with towels and cell phones and helpless, stricken expressions. They hadn’t made it to the Med Center. They’d barely made it to the mattress in the corner of the pub, away from the drafty front door and windows. Julia’s labor had progressed so quickly that now Annie could see the baby’s head. She reached forward and steadied her nerves. Lucas kneeled beside her. You can do this. Almost there.

  “You’re doing great,” she said. “I think this one will do it.” They had no monitors, nothing to indicate whether mother or baby were in distress. She could only hope she was doing the right things for them both. Annie sent up another prayer and ignored the stutter-steps of her heart. Forget the exam. This is real life. You can do this.

  Julia cried aloud and bore down, and suddenly the baby appeared in Annie’s hands, wet and red, with a full head of dark hair. She gulped as a rush of adrenaline left her lightheaded. Oh, my God. We did it. Lucas reached for the umbilical cord.

  “Is it okay?” Julia panted. She strained to look down.

  “Boy or girl?” Gabe asked.

  But Annie didn’t speak. She crouched forward and cradled the infant in her shaking hands.

  “What’s wrong?” Julia said. “Why isn’t it crying?” She looked at Gabe in panic. “Why isn’t my baby crying?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Mick idled at the red light on the far end of Main Street. Less than an hour remained in his shift, so his best bet was returning to the fire station on this end of town and waiting it out. Another paramedic would report to duty at midnight, and he could turn over the reins and make his way home. He peered into the dark.

  Or not.

  He lived about five miles outside of town, but the single road up into the hills didn’t fare well in storms. He might just as well crash at the station and drive home in the morning. The light turned green and he touched the gas. Looked as though the snow was beginning to let up, but not before dumping well over a foot on the town. Everything wore a white hat, even the holiday decorations strung along Main Street’s lampposts and storefronts. Everywhere he looked, he saw them. Decorated trees with stars perched on top. Bunches of mistletoe clustered over doorways. A Nativity scene on the front lawn of the Congregational Church. A six-foot Grinch on the steps of the library. A lump rose into Mick’s throat at the thought of Annie singing the songs from that Christmas special. He flipped through the radio stations, skipping all the holiday tunes, until he reached a station playing hard rock.

  Much better.

  The power remained out, which meant most of Lindsey Point sat in blackness. Mick drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Without warning, a bright pair of headlights appeared from the opposite direction. He braked. The other car didn’t slow down. “Get the hell over,” he muttered. He banged on the horn. Nothing. The headlights grew closer, half-blinding him. He cranked the wheel hard to the right, in time to avoid a black car with an out-of-state license plate. The car skidded by, nearly swiped the back of the rescue truck, then straightened and continued out of town.

  “Shit.” Mick whistled and wiped his brow. Damn idiot. With his luck, the driver would end up twisted around a tree a mile outside of town, and Mick would be called to the scene. He shook his head in frustration, but when he tried to straighten his truck, the tires spun. “Come on…” He tried again. This time the vehicle lurched forward, caught a bare spot on the shoulder, tipped, sli
pped, and went nose-first into the ditch.

  “What the –” Mick slammed the steering wheel. You gotta be kidding me. His head fell back on the seat. Not one single thing had gone his way tonight. Well, maybe one thing had, but kissing Annie, feeling Annie’s mouth and hands on him, had only teased him into the agony of realizing he couldn’t have her. He fisted his hands and rested them on his forehead. Some happy Christmas season this was turning out to be.

  He tried once more, but the tires only spun and dug deeper into the snow. Disgusted, he grabbed his radio and called his dispatcher.

  “Okay. I’ll let the captain know. I’ll call Todd’s Towing for you, but I’m not sure how soon a guy’ll arrive. You want to stay with the rig or grab a ride with someone back to the station?”

  Mick looked around, not sure who he might grab a ride with. On a night like this, he wouldn’t ask his closest friends to venture out, let alone another paramedic or a cab driver who might still be taking fares.

  He squinted through the snow collecting on the windshield. The Great White lay less than a half-mile up the street. He knew they had heat and power there, not to mention food and drink. As if on cue, his stomach growled. “I’m gonna walk up to the Great White,” he said. “I’ll leave the keys in the rig.” Kind of a no-brainer. He could sit here in the cold by himself, or he could hoof it through the snow and spend the night with his friends and a cold pint of beer.

  And tell Annie I’m thinking of moving to Boston, he thought as he turned on the flashers and shut the door behind him. Finn might not like the news, considering how he’d reacted to Lucas’s announcement about New York, but Mick couldn’t worry about that. Don’t let someone become a priority…

  Damn straight. He needed to make himself and his heart a priority. He’d put other people’s well-being before his own for too long. He zipped his coat to the chin and headed into the darkness.

  * * * * *

  Finn draped an arm over Annie’s shoulders and squeezed. “Nice job, Nurse Annie.”

  She smiled and leaned into him. Nurse Annie. She liked the sound of that. An F on a single final exam didn’t matter. A live, warm, wonderful baby in her arms mattered. She and Lucas stood at the bar. On the other side of the room sat Gabe and Julia, gazing down at their newborn daughter.

  “The baby’s okay?” Finn asked.

  “They need to get to the Med Center when the roads clear,” Annie said. “But yes, I think the baby will be okay.” For a frightening few seconds after the birth, she’d been unable to clear the baby’s nose and mouth. It’s not breathing. Why isn’t it breathing? Then Gabe handed her a bulb syringe from the giant bag he’d brought from his own car, and she’d swiped away the mucus the way she’d seen countless nurses do in her training.

  Annie let out a long breath. She glanced at Brady, who stood in the corner soothing the donkeys. His head nodded and his eyes drooped with fatigue. “You want a seat?” she called over.

  He blinked and looked her way, then shook his head and patted one of the donkeys on the rump. “If I sit down, I’ll be asleep in two seconds. I’ll hang out here with these guys.”

  “Didn’t know he’d turn into Farmer Brown,” Finn joked in a low voice.

  Annie elbowed him. “You’re never serious, are you?” He shrugged, the way he always did and flashed the charming smile that won him customers, day in, and day out. For a second, she wondered how Lucas could leave Lindsey Point, just pack up his things and move to a city he knew nothing about. She wasn’t sure she could do it, make new friends, find a new job, learn the culture, and the quirks of a brand new group of people. She liked this place. Check that. She loved this place, and most of the people in it.

  Especially one certain person who hadn’t returned tonight. Tears pricked her eyes. Maybe I ruined things. Or maybe I was right, and we weren’t meant to be together.

  She was about to ask Finn if she could crash in his empty apartment upstairs when the front door burst open. Wind and snow came with it, and the donkeys started. Lucas grinned. “Hey, man, look who’s back.” He jabbed a thumb across the room. “You missed all the excitement.”

  Mick pulled off his hat and snow fell to the ground all around him. Annie’s heart swelled. She took a step toward him and then stopped. He didn’t look her way. He didn’t say a single word. Cheeks ruddy, fingers stiff in the cold, he moved his jaw up and down as if to thaw it.

  “You all right?” Finn asked. He walked to the front window. “Where’s your rig?”

  “Ditch,” Mick finally got out. “I walked here.”

  “You walked? From where?”

  “Couple blocks down. Wasn’t far.” He finally met Annie’s gaze, then looked away before she could read his expression. “Is that –” He took a few steps toward Gabe and Julia. “She didn’t.”

  Gabe looked over with a wide grin. “She did. About an hour ago.” He curled his fingers in welcome. “Come meet our daughter, Faith.”

  Mick strode across the room and dropped to his knees beside the threesome. Annie couldn’t hear most of what he said, but he rubbed his hands together and then ran them over the baby, bending close to examine her.

  “You know he’s delivered half a dozen babies,” Lucas said. “He’s just what we need.”

  Annie nodded in agreement. Mick Rentas was exactly what she needed. Watching him talk to Gabe and Julia, seeing his kind smile, and the tender way he touched Faith, solidified every feeling bouncing around her head and her heart.

  Mick stood and walked over to them. “You delivered the baby?” he said to Annie.

  “I helped. Gabe did too. And Lucas.”

  Mick scratched his head. He still hadn’t touched her. He didn’t look like he was dying to kiss her. Annie’s hands folded into themselves.

  “She looks fine,” Mick said after a long pause. “The baby. Be good to get her down to the Med Center, but I don’t see any cause for concern right now.”

  Finn whistled and lined up a row of shot glasses on the bar. “I say this calls for a celebration,” he announced. “Who’s up for a drink?”

  Annie plucked Mick’s sleeve. “Can we talk?”

  He took a moment to answer. “Sure.”

  She looked around. Their only choice was the kitchen, but she thought that might be a tad presumptuous, considering what had happened last time they’d gone back there. She tilted her head toward the jukebox. He nodded, and she walked ahead of him, feeling the heat from his body close behind and wanting to fall into it.

  “I’m sorry you got stuck in the storm,” she began as she turned. How on earth did she segue into I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t sure before, but let’s make a go of it…?

  He shrugged. “I’m tough. Wasn’t that far to walk.”

  “Still…”

  “It gave me some time to think,” he added.

  Annie bit her lip at his somber tone. “About?”

  He stuffed both hands into his pockets. “This. Us. What you said before.” He lifted his gaze and scanned the dark sidewalk outside.

  “What I said before was wrong,” she blurted out.

  His brow furrowed. “Meaning what?”

  From the corner by the door, the donkeys snuffled. On the other side of the room, baby Faith made small cooing sounds. What a place for a declaration of love, Annie thought. Still, she had to do it now. She had to tell him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I love you,” she said. “So much.”

  Mick didn’t answer. One second passed. Then two. Her chest went cold. “Did you hear what –”

  He took her in his arms before she could finish. His mouth captured hers, and any other words she might have uttered disappeared on his tongue. Her hands went to the rough fabric of his jacket, stiff and frozen from the cold. His hands went to the small of her back, then her ass, cupping her and pulling her into him. She kissed him as if her life depended on it, as if she could stop the spinning of the floor beneath her feet if she held onto this man.

  “You’re my best
friend,” he said when he finally released her. “And that doesn’t mean I’m afraid of trying.” His hands slid down her sides to wrap her fingers in his. “It means I can’t imagine my life without you in it. It means you’re the person I want to wake up to, kiss goodnight, complain to, make love to…” He trailed off and looked down at her with such intense emotion Annie’s insides swooped. “You’re my everything,” he finished.

  Her eyes filled. “And you’re mine.” I didn’t even know it until tonight. She looked around at the weird, wacky scene surrounding them. Finn and Lucas stood across the bar from each other, each with a shot glass in hand. Brady remained by the donkeys, stroking them rhythmically. Gabe rested his chin on Julia’s shoulder and gazed at Faith with such pure joy it made Annie’s heart swell.

  “Look at this,” she whispered. “It’s almost like…” She wasn’t religious by any means, but a baby born in an old wooden building in the cold of December? To out-of-town parents who thought they wouldn’t have another child? They even had barn animals looking on from the corner.

  Mick chuckled as he caught her meaning. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “We have our shepherd,” she said with a glance at Brady. “Our Mary and Joseph. You three are the Wise Men,” she teased, with a playful grin at Finn and Lucas, who toasted them from across the room. “And Faith is –” Well, Faith was what every person needed this time of year, right? A miracle born of love, trust, and hope that could survive the darkest storm. “The only thing missing is the angel,” she finished. “Isn’t there supposed to be an angel in this story?”