by Rachel Hanna
A large black truck roared up in front of her, seeming to come out of nowhere. Jake hopped out, smiling at the moment, wearing a pair of worn out jeans, cowboy boots and a thick, cable knit gray sweater. In a word, he looked yummy. She could smell his cologne as he approached, wishing that mistletoe was hanging above her.
“Hey,” he said, that Southern drawl making her swoon yet again. He had what her grandmother would have referred to as a “husky” voice, a little bit of gravel seeming to be stuck to his vocal cords.
“Hey. Ready to go?”
“Your chariot awaits,” he said, bowing a bit as he opened the door. She climbed inside, which required stepping up, and sat down. Jake ran around and slid back behind the driver’s seat.
“Nice truck.”
“Thanks. I bought it as soon as I got to town for a steal.”
“So, where are we going exactly?”
“Mister McGregor’s tree farm. It’s just outside of town, but they have the best trees. We always got them there when I was a kid. My Mom would borrow the neighbor’s truck, and we would walk the farm until we were exhausted.”
“Wait. Walk the farm? You mean they don’t just have trees ready for you?”
“They do, but those aren’t the good ones. You have to walk, and bring your own axe, of course.”
“Axe? You brought an axe?”
“And a saw. Do you know a better way to cut down a tree?”
“I thought we were just going to go to one of those Christmas tree places where all the trees were lined up and I just pointed at the one I wanted.”
Jake smiled, his dimple seeming deeper today for some reason. Maybe his smile was bigger? “Don’t worry. I’ll let you pick it. You can even point at it, if you’d like.”
“This place is a lot bigger than it looks,” Claire said, huffing and puffing more than a trained dancer should.
“You need a break?” Jake asked, unbothered by the long trek they’d already made.
“Maybe just a short one.”
They sat down on one of the many log benches scattered around the farm. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who got tired. Christmas tree picking was hard work.
“Man, this place brings back memories,” Jake said, a faraway look on his face.
“Good ones I hope?”
He looked at her. “Yeah. Good ones. Makes me miss my Momma.”
“What was she like?”
“Oh, she was the best. A great cook. Feisty as they come. A woman of real faith and strength.”
“What would she think about you now, as a man?” Claire asked.
He sighed. “She wouldn’t be real happy with me lately.”
Claire felt a stirring in her soul, a desire to help this man she barely knew. But he didn’t want to talk about it, and she had no right to butt her nose into his business.
“I bet she’d be proud, Jake. You’re a good guy. I mean, who else would offer to help me like this?”
“I’m sure a lot of people would.”
“Well, it means a lot. I was so afraid the holidays would be hard for me this year. And I do miss my family. But spending time with you has taken my mind off it.”
He smiled and bumped her shoulder with his. “Aw, shucks. It’s been my pleasure.”
“So far. Let’s see if you say that after I tell you I want that big tree right over there.” She pointed a few rows over at the tallest tree in sight. “At least I have those high ceilings, right?”
He shook his head and stood up. “I better get to work if I want to fell that thing before sundown.”
Claire giggled. “Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, as she followed him.
The smell of hot chocolate hung in the air, mixed with pine needles, of course. Claire carried another bag of decorations in from the storage area as Jake stared at her.
“How many ornaments did you buy?”
“A lot. But this is a big tree.”
Jake smiled. “You bought these before you picked the tree, Claire.”
“Shhh… No need to question it.”
She was funny. And beautiful. And everything a man would want. And all of that made her very dangerous, which was why he couldn’t figure out what he was thinking when he agreed to do all of this.
Christmas meant nothing to him anymore, yet he could feel his stomach churning in a way that made him feel like a kid back in high school. When Maryann Hunter had looked his way in math class, batting her eyelashes, his stomach had felt this way.
But he wasn’t going down that road. She was his daughter’s dance teacher. She was his friend. Nothing more. The holiday music and decorations weren’t going to change how he felt about Christmas this year.
Claire walked across the room and turned on the satellite radio, tuning it to the Christmas music channel. As the first song filled the space of the dance room, Jake was taken back in time to his childhood when his mother used to bake gingerbread cookies and blare Christmas songs throughout the house. He smiled as he thought about her.
“What are you smiling at?” Claire asked. He had been unaware that she was looking at him.
“I was thinking about my mother and how she made Christmas so special when we were kids.”
Claire handed him the lights for the tree. “Oh yeah? What kinds of things did she do?”
Jake walked to the tree and started stringing the lights around it. “Well, she made killer gingerbread cookies, for one thing. She had this homemade white icing she used to decorate them, and sometimes I would get caught eating a cup of it while I hid in the laundry room.”
Claire laughed. “A whole cup? Wow. I didn’t take you for an icing man.”
“I love sweet stuff, but I try to behave. Firefighters have to keep in shape.” He stopped for a moment. He wasn’t really a firefighter anymore, but he still thought of himself as one. “So, what about you? What memories do you have of Christmas?”
“Oh, my Mom makes the best chocolate cherry cheesecakes, and she only makes them at Christmas. They will melt in your mouth. And every year she’d make us brand new stockings, complete with our names.”
“Really? Every year?”
“Yes. She’s an expert at needlepoint. Now she makes them for my brother’s kids since I don’t have any of my own.”
“Do you want kids?”
Claire reached around the tree to help him with the second strand of lights. “I do, but I’m nowhere close seeing as how I’m not even dating right now.”
“You were never married?”
“Nope. Got close once, but my career was too demanding for him. I was always at rehearsals, and he just wanted me to stop dancing. I couldn’t do that.”
“That’s not fair to ask of you. Dance is part of who you are,” Jake said, totally understanding where she was coming from.
She smiled at him appreciatively. “You get it then. I’m sure being a firefighter is part of who you are.”
He sighed. “It was. No more.”
Without warning, she put her hand on his upper arm. “Jake, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“What happened?”
“Claire…”
“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I feel like maybe you need to?”
“It’s just that I came here to start over. I don’t like dredging up the past. It won’t change anything. Plus, aren’t we trying to have a good time decorating the tree?” He forced a smile, hoping she’d move on.
“I haven’t known you long, but I care about you, Jake. You can talk to me. I lost my career too. I understand what you’re going through…”
A flash of anger swept through his body. He stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. “No. You don’t. You didn’t fail anyone. You had an injury. It’s not at all like what happened to me.”
Claire looked worried, as if he might hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. He took a deep breath to try to calm down.
“I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed,” she said, turning to the tree again.
“Claire, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I just have a hard time talking about it.”
“It’s okay. We can just decorate.” She stared at the ornament in her hand for a moment and then hung it on the tree. Silence hung in the air. Jake ached to get back the chemistry they had a few moments ago. As usual, his mess of a life was getting in the way.
“A family died on my watch.”
Claire froze in place and then turned to him. Her eyes were full of pain. “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She reached out and touched his arm again.
“The fire was larger than we realized. Started in the kitchen and spread so fast that we couldn’t contain it. Nothing was working. There was a little girl, about ten years old. She was in the front corner bedroom, and I was able to get her out first.”
“So you saved her?”
“Yeah, she got out. But then she was screaming that her parents and siblings were still inside. She was so scared and distraught, Claire. No kid should ever look like that. She was all alone in the world in that moment. She begged me to go back in and save them. I promised her I would. I thought I could. I had no idea the house would have a backdraft and then implode on itself. It all happened so fast. I barely made it out alive…”
Claire stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist, pressing her head to his chest. He hadn’t been expecting that, and his emotions almost overtook him. He’d only cried once since the fire, but right now he was having trouble holding it all inside.
She stood there quietly, her grip firm and loving. Without thinking, he put his arms around her. It felt good and right and wrong at the same time.
“I remember seeing you on TV,” she said softly. “That’s where I must have recognized you from.”
“People kept saying I was a hero. But I’m no hero. I let that little girl down. Her family is dead because of me.”
Claire looked up at him. “No, no, no. Jake, you can’t believe that! You saved her. The fire killed her family, not you.”
“Everyone says that, Claire. But I can’t believe it. I can’t ever forgive myself.”
She let go, leaving a void. He wanted her to stay there. It comforted him in a way he couldn’t describe.
“Jake, can I ask you something else?”
“Yes.”
She stepped back and looked at him. “Did you do everything you could do that night?”
“Of course.”
“Did you slack even a little bit?”
“No. I would never do that.”
“Then why are you blaming yourself?”
He looked up at the ceiling and then back at his feet. “Because maybe I could have gone faster. Maybe I could have used a different tool. All I know is I made a promise, and I didn’t keep it. And now that little girl has no family.”
She took his hands. “I don’t know how you feel, and I won’t pretend that I do. But I do know that even when we try our hardest, sometimes things still happen. Even when we have the best of intentions, it’s not enough. But beating yourself up won’t bring them back. All you’re doing is dishonoring those people by not living your life to the fullest.”
He stopped breathing for a moment. No one had ever put it that way. Here he thought he was punishing himself and honoring them at the same time, but was that even possible? Putting negativity out into the world certainly wasn’t helping him or honoring anyone.
“Maybe the bravest thing you can do to honor those people is to live a good life, Jake.”
Jake smiled. “Do you hear that?” I’ll Be Home For Christmas had just started playing on the radio. “That was my mother’s favorite Christmas song.”
“I love it too,” she said, looking up at him, her hands still holding his. She pulled him toward the middle of the room. “Dance with me.”
“I can’t, Claire. Two left feet. Remember?”
“That’s okay. I’m a pretty good teacher.”
He walked with her, the two of them never breaking eye contact. They moved closer to each other as she slid her arms around his waist.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head as they swayed to the music. What was this woman doing to him? In a moment, she’d said the one thing he needed to hear. He could feel the weight of the last few months starting to lift from his shoulders. He could feel himself opening up to the idea of honoring those people by living rather than slowly dying.
He could feel.
And it was terrifying.
She felt so warm and safe in his arms. As they moved together to the music, Claire felt at home. She never wanted the song to end.
How had this man been so hard on himself? What he’d done was heroic. And then to have kept raising a wonderful daughter at the same time he was dealing with so much grief was amazing in her eyes.
She remembered watching the news clips about the fire and thinking what a hero he was. It had been a big story in New York since Boston wasn’t too far away.
When the song ended, they stood there in the middle of the room, still pulled together like a force of nature had attracted them. Like some huge magnet had taken both of their pain and fused it together.
Claire was aggravated when the next song was Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer and ruined the mood. Jake stepped back and laughed.
“I honestly don’t now how to dance to this one.”
“I don’t think anyone does,” Claire said. “Thanks for the dance.You’re not so bad.”
“I consider that high praise coming from you,” he said with a wink. Oh goodness. Even his winks were adorable. She was definitely in trouble. Warning bells were shooting off in every corner of her body.
“So, I guess we should finish decorating the tree?”
“Yeah. Right now it’s looking pretty bare.”
They went back and started decorating again, sharing old memories from their childhoods and laughing at the worst presents they’d ever gotten.
But when they were finished, the tree was magnificent. The whole day had passed as they worked and talked and laughed. Before she knew it, the sun was starting to set and she was starving.
“I think my stomach might actually eat itself,” Jake said, rubbing his hand across his midsection. “How did we totally forget lunch?”
Claire picked up the empty plastic bags the ornaments were in. “I guess we were having a good time.”
Jake smiled. “I guess so.”
“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure you have things to do.”
“Don’t you have to eat?”
“Well, yes. But I have some soup at my house…”
“Soup? That sounds completely boring.”
“It’s good soup!” Claire said, proud that she made it.
“How about we pick up Cassie and go grab some burgers?”
Claire had to admit burgers sounded a lot better than soup right now. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
Jake put his hands on her shoulders. “You aren’t intruding, Claire. I enjoy your company more than you know.”
In that moment, she understood what swooning felt like.
6
Dinner the night before had been fun with Cassie and Jake. She loved watching him be a father. He was strong and responsible and fun. Cassie was a lucky little girl.
As Claire sat behind the counter, writing out plans for the new year, she daydreamed what it would be like to have a husband and a family to go home to each night. What would it be like to put up their family Christmas tree? What memories would they make together?
Maybe she’d never have that. She’d gotten close one time. She had dated Ron for two years. He was a good guy, if a bit boring at times. His job on the New York Stock Exchange kept him busy, but for some reason he’d been focused on the fact that her job kept her away from him too much.
True, her job required a lot more night hours with practices and performances. Some weekends she was
gone morning to night. It was her life, not just her career.
But her relationship fell apart in the shadow of her pointe shoes. She’d been sad at the time, of course. But not really sad about losing Ron. It was more sadness over losing the chance at a family. Years had passed, and now it was water under the bridge. At thirty five years old, she wondered if her time to have a family was long since gone.
“Knock knock,” Susan said from the doorway. Claire hadn’t even noticed her come into the studio because she was so focused on her planning.
“Hey there! Nice rainy day we’re having out there, huh?” Claire said. The gray, cold day was starting to wear on her. She really wanted a nap more than anything.
“Yeah, it’s pretty dreary out there. What are you working on?”
“Planning all sorts of new dances and routines for the kiddos!”
“Oh, that’s perfect timing then!”
Claire looked at her, confused. “Why?”
Susan walked over and leaned against the counter. “I hope this doesn’t stress you out too much…”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
She giggled. “Well, you see, January Cove has something called the Mistletoe Festival every year. It’s a couple of days before the parade.”
“And?”
“The Arts Council has mentioned that they’d love to have you choreograph a dance that the kids can do on the big stage on Main Street.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Come on, Claire! This would be great publicity for your studio.”
Claire sighed. “I know you’re right, but I don’t know how in the world I’ll choreograph something and get the kids to learn it in such a short time frame.” She was already getting a headache and it was still early in the day.
“I’ll help in any way I can! I mean, I’m no dancer, but I can help set up extra rehearsals, talk to the parents…”