For the first time since coming to the realization that she would meet her true love three times before dating him, she wished it wasn’t true. She even wanted to doubt the three-times rule, but it was too ingrained in her and she knew it too deeply in her soul. She was more sure that true love would come after a third meeting than she was that the sun would rise in the morning.
She couldn’t believe she’d told Jak as much as she had. It had just spilled out of her.
J-A-K Jak. If ever there was a man who would throw her over his shoulder and carry her off Viking-style, she would expect someone who looked like him. That type of pushy, aggressive behavior had been exactly what had changed her outlook on dating to begin with. Only Emma, her most trusted friend, knew the whole story and that it was God’s direction, not a flight of fancy, that kept her from getting involved too quickly again.
Emma had been sworn to secrecy and had pinky promised not to interfere by helping any potential suitors “accidentally” run into her. Blind dates were off the table too. It had to be three organic meetings.
Three horrific dating experiences, each worse than the previous, had led her to what she and Emma referred to as The Prophecy. Nothing but three chance meetings with a gentleman or prince—or mild-mannered Viking—would lead her out of it.
Oh how she hoped it would be a Viking hero who came to her rescue.
“You’re thinking about him,” said Emma as the unnamed band finished another song.
Jillian had started clapping without realizing it. “Of course I am,” said Jillian. “Did you see him?”
“Yeah, and he saw you. In fact, I don’t think he noticed anything but you until the Batphone went off.”
Of course Jillian had noticed that, and it felt great to hear Emma say she had noticed too. “It’s not a matter of attracting hot guys. I just can’t trust the guys I do attract.”
Emma put an arm around her, not in pity, but in solidarity. “For your sake, I hope Jak is the one. We already know he’s a hero.”
“Maybe we’ll run into him later tonight,” said Jillian. “Under the right circumstances I think that would count as the second meeting.”
“I guess we just wait and see if he’s your hero.” Emma crossed her fingers.
Jillian held up crossed fingers as well. “Wish I didn’t have to wait months for him to come back to Park City.” Her prayers every night would include him up until the very last wildfire was 100% extinguished this year. She already felt a little bit scared for him, going out to face that danger. Every night it seemed like the news showed new video footage of massive walls of flames scouring wilderness and neighborhoods alike.
Emma checked her phone. “I wish I didn’t have to wait thirty more minutes for my future boyfriend Sloane Kent to take the stage.”
“Um, married,” said Jillian. “And I don’t think your current, non-fake boyfriend would take that sitting down either.”
“First of all,” said Emma, “Matt knows about Sloane and he agrees with me. And second, I’m not harshing your fireman fantasies so you just leave my Country Billionaire delusions alone. That lucky Mrs. Kent could, oh, I don’t know, fall down a very long flight of steps while climbing the Great Wall of China, land in a section of rubble, bounce down into the forest, get dragged off by a bear but while the bear is escaping, a dragon swoops down, eats them both, and she’s never seen from again.”
“That’s scarily specific,” said Jillian.
“You can’t be too careful with these things.” Emma’s eyes were wide as if she was very serious.
“It’s also slightly disturbing.”
“You dream your dreams, sister, I’ll dream mine. And my dream is going to need some special love and attention after losing his woman in such a tragic way.”
Keep dreaming, thought Jillian. She had no doubt she’d be dreaming tonight of a tall, blond hero coming to her rescue.
2
Jak stood stage left of the cleared-off stage looking out at the mostly empty amphitheater. All night, ever since the cardiac arrest summons, he’d been watching for Jillian. After the premonition, he’d been almost positive he’d find her. Yet no matter where he looked, she was as elusive as smoke through his fingers.
The only real EMS call of the night had been the old guy with the heart attack. It had been a great save, thanks to quick bystander CPR, a nearby defibrillator which Jak had attached and delivered a shock with, followed by Charlotte’s savant-like paramedic skills with the IV, meds, and perfect CPR. The patient had been wheeled out on a gurney with a beating heart. A sick heart, but a beating one.
That described how Jak’s heart felt at the moment. It was beating, but it needed something to make it whole. That something it needed was not among the people cleaning up and down the aisles of seats.
Charlotte appeared at Jak’s side. She had stashed the EMS gear in the nearby first aid room. “Now that is what I call a concert. Why did our crew get stuck with the only Kent brother not talented enough to be a superstar?”
Jak chuckled at Tom’s expense. He barely remembered the music or anything Sloane Kent and his band had said or done. “Who’s picking on a guy who can’t defend himself now?”
“I’ll say it to Tom’s face.” She turned over her shoulder and said, “Tom, did you see Sloane up there? He was like super-human.”
Tom Kent, the other paramedic on their crew, walked up to them.
“Go ahead, let me have it,” said Tom. He was almost as tall as Jak, and they both towered over Charlotte. “I knew it was coming when you two told me you scored the EMS standby for the event. I’d introduce you to him, Charlotte, but his wife Hope isn’t big on women up close and personal drooling on her man.
“What good is having you on the crew if you can’t get me into drool range?” asked Charlotte.
“The crowd definitely ate it up,” Jak managed to say. That had been obvious in the faces Jak searched, and the dancing, screaming, arm-waving fans had made it impossible to do any type of defined search. If only one of those faces had looked back at him with gray eyes capable of imprinting themselves forever on his soul.
“Wake up, Jak.” Charlotte punched him in the shoulder. “You ready?”
“Nah. I’m gonna hang out for a few minutes.”
Tom looked out at the littered seats and amphitheater. “Hard to say goodbye to civilization?”
“Something like that.” Cancelling his deployment had been on his mind ever since he met Jillian. That would be crazy, though. The deployment would earn him enough to finish paying off the small house he’d purchased after his first year of wildland firefighting. Jak didn’t make a ton of money, but some wise firemen early in his career had forced him to max out retirement contributions. Between those savings, the robust real estate market in Park City, and the big checks that came with long deployments, Jak was doing very well for a public servant.
Doing good and doing well, his mom loved to say.
More and more the approaching financial freedom gave him the feeling of freedom in all aspects of his life. Jak’s extensive training and strong record in wildland firefighting had opened doors nationwide which he’d been giving more and more thought to. His brotherhood with the Park City Fire Department guys had kept him from actively pursuing wider possibilities, but more attractive offers rolled in each wildland season. For better or worse, the timing of paying off the house soon had been triggering thoughts of reconsidering.
Tonight, three hours earlier, his wandering soul had been anchored down again by something even stronger than brotherhood. The bigger pastures and greener opportunities held no allure any longer.
So where was she, this woman who had captured him with a glance? In twelve hours, Jak would be driving down I-15, putting this civilized life behind him for weeks or months. He just wasn’t sure he could put Jillian’s hypnotic eyes behind him, even if he wanted to. Not after the premonition that had blind-sided him five minutes before meeting her.
“Earth to Jak,” s
aid Charlotte. She turned to Tom. “He met a girl. He’s got it bad, Tom.”
“Why didn’t I get her friend’s number at least?” said Jak. “Then I could have set up more encounters.”
“Uh-uh,” said Charlotte, shaking her head. “There is no way Jak of the Mystical Sixth Sense would cheat on another person’s magic foretelling.”
“I know,” grumbled Jak, but he couldn’t just give up.
“What’s her name?” asked Tom.
Charlotte cracked a smile and said, “Oh, you’ll love this. It’s Jill.”
They both cracked up.
She explained, “He asked her out, and she said not this time. He has to find her twice more before she’ll date him.”
“Sounds like some fairy tale,” said Tom. “He has to break the curse or something?”
“Something like that.” Jak was at his wits end and needed real advice. “So what do I do?”
“You plan on getting any sleep before you drive out tomorrow?” asked Tom.
Jak nodded his head.
“Then I doubt you’ll run into her on this side of wildland season.” Tom laid a hand on Jak’s shoulder. “Forget you met her. For five to ten weeks, just let her fade from your mind. Maybe you’ll meet up this winter, maybe not. Don’t torture yourself in the meantime.”
That was easy for Tom to say. “It kind of feels like torture now,” said Jak.
“Well it’s horrible advice,” said Charlotte. “Don’t forget about her. I’ve never seen you go all goofy over a woman before. Unfortunately, Tom’s right that you need to go grow your beard and play in the dirt. And hope you meet up when you come home.”
“Why’d we have to meet tonight?” He already knew the answer lay beyond any of their understanding.
Charlotte must have realized it too because she said, “Well, I’m out. You coming?”
“Go ahead,” said Jak. “Tom, can you give her a lift?”
“No problem.” Tom held up a fist to bump.
Charlotte reached up and hugged him. “Godspeed, big brother.”
“Thanks, little sis.” said Jak. “Hey, don’t let anyone bump me out of Station 3 while I’m gone.”
“No promises,” called Tom as he walked away. “Gotta see if anyone who can cook worth a darn is looking for a home.”
And just like that, Jak was left alone with the cleaning crew—who moved from one side of the amphitheater to the other like a well-oiled machine. Like a wildland handcrew cutting line with Pulaskis and shovels.
Jak considered wandering the venue on the off chance of a lucky meeting with Jillian, but he felt like his shot was over for now. If they ever met again it would be in a world covered with snow. Maybe Christmas music would be playing and they could skate under shimmering snowflakes that fell from the sky but didn’t clutter the ice. Ooh, maybe there would be mistletoe.
No matter when and no matter where, Jak believed down to the depths of his soul that they would meet again. His premonition earlier had not been nothing.
For another hour, Jak sat right there in the position that gave him best vantage of the venue. For an hour Jak watched for her auburn hair and shimmering gray eyes. What would they look like under the floodlights? Or under starlight?
Eventually he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and switched his brain to wildland mode. As much as he hated it, falling in love—well, further in love—had to wait.
3
Jillian finished her shift at Sicily’s Pizza, pulled on her parka, wrapped up in a scarf, and stepped out into a winter wonderland. The first real snowstorm of the year had blown in while she was on shift and with snow on the ground and falling in fat, fluffy flakes, it finally felt like Christmastime. The shops of downtown Park City had been decorated for weeks, and the snow gave the city the exact touch it needed. With Christmas a month away, the timing was perfect. Parking being what it was around the holidays in this shopping mecca/destination town, Jillian always parked in the public complex a couple of blocks away.
She cut across the parking lot of Pineapple’s Bar and Grill. She’d never been inside. From what she’d heard, it was a hangout for firemen, as opposed to Sicily’s where the Park City cops tended to gather. Most shifts she cut through the parking lot and every time she did so, she wondered if she’d run into Jak again, since his people hung out nearby. In the three months since she’d met him at the Sloane Kent concert, she’d kept an eye out for him. With every passing day, hope faded. In just a couple of weeks, she would graduate from the University of Utah, then head back to California and a future that could bring anything.
Again she made it through the parking lot without spotting him. The hopeful feeling of the season dampened a bit as she cut behind the building.
Jillian froze at the mouth of the alley.
The street light, situated halfway up the alley, was out, leaving her path dark and foreboding. It was an alley like this where she’d been attacked—the third and worst of the three horrible experiences. She hadn’t been alone that night. In the end, she would have been safer alone than going in with that wolf.
The dark alley in front of her brought back the pungent odor of the product in her attacker’s beard as he forced his face against hers. Other sensations played at the edges of her mind, but she forced them back, refusing to dwell on that ghastly night.
For a minute, Jillian stared down the alley. This close to downtown she would be safe. A scream for help would surely bring people running. She felt like if she turned and fled now, the monster would win again. In a little more than one block, Jillian would be safe in her car, and if she made it to her car by passing through this obstacle in front of her, she would gain that much more of her world back from the that horrible man.
With a puff of determined, frosty breath, Jillian started down the alley.
Please, Lord, watch over and protect me.
So far so good. Hopefully the first step was the hard part. At the moment, with shadows deepening with every step, her stubborn decision to take back the scary parts of her world felt foolish. Heart pounding in her chest, feet crunching on the snow, Jillian faced her fear one step at a time, and she did it with a prayer for safety in her heart.
A man stepped into the entryway of the alley at the far end. A bearded man, and he was coming toward her.
A squeak escape Jillian’s throat and she glanced over her shoulder. The alley behind her was clear. But the entrance where she had begun was also farther away than the exit ahead. To get out where she’d come from, she would have to turn her back on the bearded man, who was even closer to her now, his shadow looming large from the streetlights behind him. Nothing in the world would give her the courage to turn her back on him.
Jillian shoved one hand into her purse in search of her pepper spray before she remembered she’d left it in her trail backpack a few days earlier.
Her best bet now was to go forward, reach the lighted areas as quickly as she could, and if worse came to worst, she would fight him off and scream for help. With head down and eyes up, Jillian was a bobsled, a bullet on the ice and nothing could get in her way.
When Jillian was about ten steps away, the man stopped in the center of the alley and spread his arms. The backlighting of the safe haven behind him made it tough to make out his face or his features or his expression, and Jillian didn’t want to look more closely. Was it Mike the monster? Had he somehow found her, and waited for her to be vulnerable again? He’d never been convicted so he didn’t spend any time in prison like he deserved.
Jillian’s heart was pounding louder than the exaggerated crunch of her determined, icy steps. She pressed forward one more step. There was no way to outrun him; she had to go forward.
Her Viking hero came to mind. Why couldn’t he be there to protect her? This bearded guy in front of her was big, but he was no match for Jak’s physique or hero stature.
“Remember me?” said the man in a mock friendly voice.
Jillian felt the blood drain from her face.
Her vision started to glaze over and she felt the auto-pilot kicking in.
Get out! Get out! Get out! Get out!
Jillian accepted the oh-so-tempting invitation to hide inside her mind behind a barrier of safety and ignorance. The robotic mantra continued to blare like a fire alarm.
Get out! Get out! Get out!
Jillian gained focus in layers. Cottony snow, drifting from a gray sky. A parking structure built on a hill so that the top level was the ground level if you approached from the east. She was standing on the lighted top level of the familiar parking structure.
Keys in her hand. And right in front of her an old silver Subaru. That was her Subaru. Jillian checked over her shoulders. She was alone. So how had she gotten here?
The alley.
The man with the beard!
Jillian frisked herself, sending a dusting of snow to the ground around her. Her parka was intact and her body felt—she gulped—un-violated.
She had completely blacked out, some sort of fugue state. It was the second time that had happened since the alley attack. The thought simultaneously made her feel relieved because she was seemingly safe and unharmed, and terrified that she might completely check out of her mind again at any moment.
Jillian shoved her keys into her purse and pulled out her cell. Tears were walled up just behind her eyeballs, and she knew that if she let them start it would be a flood like she’d never experienced. Her hands, too shaky to drive, could barely pull up Emma’s number.
“Hey, girlfriend,” said Emma’s cheery voice. The new sound in the silent night startled Jillian and she almost dropped the phone. “You off work?”
“Yeah,” Jillian forced out. She forced her tongue thickly along the bridge of her mouth to clear the way for more words. “Can you pick me up?”
“Of course. You don’t sound drunk, not that you ever are. You okay?”
The pressure cooker of tears pushed harder against her barrier. A cold sweat ran frosty on her brow and her bladder was as scared as a five-year old at a horror movie. And if the tears or urine didn’t make their way out, her stomach might spew its contents into the night. “I’m safe.” A breath. “At the parking garage. Top level.”
Her Christmas Miracle: Park City Firefighter Romances Page 2