Off the Grid Christmas

by Mary Ellen Porter

  “I’m saving room,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Christmas dinner,” she replied, and he smiled. He moved the laptop onto the table and pulled the blankets up around her shoulders.

  “That’s a couple of weeks away.”

  “It’s never too early to start planning.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Definitely not,” she said. Her eyes drifted shut despite her best efforts to keep them open. Somehow, she still managed to speak, spewing out useless facts that she couldn’t even blame on pain medication because she hadn’t had any. “Studies show that the best Christmas bargains are found during the summer months. Clothes. Shoes. Books. People who buy early save themselves nearly forty percent.”

  “You know what else studies show?” he asked.

  “What?” She opened her eyes, saw his gentle smile and smiled back.

  “That patients who rest heal faster.”

  “I—”

  “You don’t want to miss Christmas dinner because you’re in the hospital, do you?” He crossed the room and turned off the light.

  “Are you going to be there?” she asked. The question spilled out before she could stop it.

  “With bells on,” he replied.

  “I’d like to see that,” she murmured. Her eyes closed again, the dark room and soft beep of machines lulling her into sweet velvety sleep.

  * * *

  The muted dawn light seeped in through the hospital blinds. The hospital was just beginning to wake, the silence of the evening interrupted by the sounds of rattling carts and the murmuring voices of doctors and nurses making their morning rounds.

  Kane stretched and yawned. He debated whether he should go for a cup of hospital coffee or play it safe with a soda from the vending machine. After Arden had fallen asleep, he’d argued with Grayson over who would stay with her and who would find a hotel for the night. In the end, they’d flipped a coin for it and Kane had happily spent a less than comfortable night in the blue pleather recliner.

  He glanced over at where Arden lay, a little banged up but safe. To his surprise, she was awake, dark shadows under her eyes, her face drawn.

  She smiled, though, just like she always seemed to. “You’re still here.”

  “Where else would I be?” He walked to the bed and lifted her hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been manhandled, shot and half drowned in the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “So, pretty good?” he joked, and she laughed, wincing a little at the effort.

  “How about you don’t be funny for a few days, okay? It hurts too much.”

  “Sorry.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. He watched as her cheeks went pink.

  “What was that for?” she asked, but didn’t pull away.

  “Does it have to be for something?”

  “Statistically speaking? Yes,” she responded.

  “Then let’s call it practice.”

  “For what?”

  “The Christmas party.”

  “You plan on kissing people’s hands at the Christmas party?”

  “No, but there’ll be mistletoe there, and a stunning, brilliant, funny woman wearing a crazy Christmas sweater. I’m thinking that if I time it right, I just might steal a kiss.” It wasn’t something he’d planned to say. It wasn’t something he’d even meant to say, but it felt right.

  Her eyes widened, and she started talking, spewing facts faster than a wood chipper shot out chunks of wood.

  “Who says you need mistletoe to steal a kiss? There are other traditions. Like kissing at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, kissing beneath the harvest moon. Some people believe that if you stand on the peak of Mount—”

  He stopped the words with his lips, kissing her gently and sweetly and with all the affection he had for her.

  Her hand slid into his hair, and she pulled him closer. The beauty of the moment shivered through him and made him long for more of this and of her.

  The door opened, and she jerked back, her eyes bright blue against her fair skin.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  “I can think of another word to describe it,” Grayson said.

  “How about you keep it to yourself?” Kane suggested.

  “I think I will,” Grayson agreed. He walked in the room, his face carefully masking his feelings, a cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Sorry for interrupting your...moment. I thought you might need some coffee after a night on that chair.” He looked from Kane to Arden and back to Kane again.

  “We weren’t having a moment,” Arden began, her cheeks pink.

  “Yes,” Kane interrupted. “We were.”

  “See?” Grayson kissed Arden’s cheek. “You were. Which was obvious.”

  He handed the coffee to Kane. “I just want to know if I need to punch him for taking advantage of my sister or congratulate him for seeing how special she is.”

  “There’s no need to throw any punches, Gray,” Arden said, shaking her head.

  “Then congratulations, man. I guess I’ll be keeping my fists to myself...for now.”

  Arden rolled her eyes. “How about we change the subject to something more interesting.”

  “Personally, I find you very interesting,” Kane said, just to see her blush again.

  She didn’t disappoint. “I mean the case. Have you heard from Harriet yet, Grayson?”

  “She called this morning. They identified the buyer—it’s classified, so all I can tell you is that it’s a nation-state entity. We’re teaming with the CIA to catch them.”

  “What about Randy?”

  “He was transferred to Massachusetts Correctional Facility early this morning. That little weasel is being held without bond—Harry and her crew found enough evidence to try him as an accessory to espionage.”

  “What about the deaths of Juniper’s husband, Dale, and his boss?”

  “The team’s still building their case. It could be a while. I’ll push a little harder. Just to make sure they keep digging. But I feel confident—” Whatever Grayson was going to say next was cut off by his cell phone.

  “Hang on, it’s Mom. I asked her to let me know when her flight would get in this morning.” He put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mom...wait, slow down, what? Where are you?” His brows furrowed and he glanced at his watch. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll call in some favors to get a private flight out and should be there in under two hours.”

  Grayson hung up, his usual calm demeanor slightly rattled. “Laney’s having contractions. Mom and Aunt Rose are taking her to the hospital now. The airport’s opened and Dad’s on standby—he’s hoping to get here later this morning.”

  “I knew you shouldn’t have left Maryland,” Arden said. “What if you miss the birth of your kids?”

  Kane reached out and grabbed her hand, hating to see her so upset.

  “Stop worrying and get some rest, kid.” Grayson leaned down and kissed Arden’s forehead, then ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you in a few days.” He turned to rush toward the door, then paused and looked at Kane. “Take care of her for us.”

  “I got this covered, Grayson.”

  “Make sure you call with updates,” Arden yelled as the door shut behind Grayson.

  “The flight to Maryland takes an hour, tops. He won’t miss the birth,” Kane assured her.

  “I know,” she sighed. “It’s just Laney’s not due for another three and a half weeks. She’s probably scared and needs Gray to be there for her.”

  “He will be,” Kane said with conviction. He prayed he was right. If Grayson missed the birth of his children, Arden would blame herself, even if it was misplaced blame. She genuinely wanted her family safe and happy. Woul
d sacrifice everything for them. Just like he would sacrifice anything for her.

  “But anything could happen,” she worried. “Statistically speaking, preterm birth is the greatest contributor to—” He cut her off with a kiss, which ended too soon.

  “What was that for?” she asked, her face flushed.

  He smiled down at her, losing himself in her eyes. “That one was just for you.”

  EPILOGUE

  Five thirty in the evening on Christmas, and Arden should have been giddy with happiness.

  Bing Crosby crooned from the stereo system in the DeMarco home. The smell of ham and pecan pie filled the house. Arden breathed in the familiar smells of Christmas and tried on a smile. It felt as fake as the plastic mistletoe someone had hung above the living room doorway.

  She could hear her mom and Juniper bustling around in the kitchen, their laughter and muted chatter barely lightening her mood. It should have made her ecstatic. It had been too long since she’d heard Juniper really laugh. In the days after Emory’s death and Randy’s arrest, Arden’s friend had been looking increasingly drawn and tired. Juniper claimed it was morning sickness, but Arden suspected she was stressed over the ongoing investigation.

  Evidence had quickly cast doubt on the circumstances of Dale’s death, but her friend was still waiting for Dale’s name to be fully cleared and justice to be served. Arden only hoped it would happen soon. The stress could not be good for Juniper or her unborn baby.

  Arden rose from her father’s favorite recliner and made her way to the large bay window. Her shoulder was still stiff, her arm aching dully as she moved. She’d refused to let it ruin her Christmas. She’d decorated cookies, just like always. She’d helped decorate the Christmas tree. She’d done dozens of things that should have put her in the holiday spirit.

  Somehow, none of them had.

  She sighed, squeezed in next to the colorfully decorated tree, and looked out into the yard and street. A light layer of snow covered the ground, its surface painted gold with the setting sun. It was beautiful, breathtaking, nearly perfect.

  And she still felt glum.

  With her arm still in a sling, and doctor’s orders to take it easy for another three weeks, Arden had been relegated to light duty. Her mom had also given her the task of keeping Laney’s Aunt Rose out of the kitchen while the Christmas meal was prepared.

  That should have been easy enough, but Rose loved people, and she’d wanted nothing more than to be in the thick of things. Fortunately, Laney had handed Rose one of the twins. Rose was currently ensconced on the couch talking gibberish to little Aiden.

  Laney held Flynn, and the two women sat side by side, sharing and reminiscing like they did every year. Arden could have joined in, but for once, she didn’t feel like she had anything to say.

  The men were in the family room playing a game of pool. Every now and then, one or the other would exclaim loudly at a particularly good or bad shot. Inevitably they’d argue that someone had cheated and there would be no clear winner.

  Arden smiled at the predictability of it all. The family had expanded over the years, but the bonds between them were far from weakened.

  Hearing a soft rustling near her feet, Arden looked down to find Sebastian under the tree. He was nestled between two immaculately wrapped Christmas presents and amusing himself by batting at a low-hanging bulb. She carefully knelt down and scooped him up with her right arm. He immediately snuggled his head up under her chin, his front legs wrapping around her neck. He purred loudly.

  “I love you, too, buddy, but if you break another bulb Mom will kill me.” She rubbed her face against the top of his head and thought about carrying him into her room and taking a nap. That didn’t seem very festive, so she stayed put.

  After her release from the hospital, and at Kane and Grayson’s insistence, Arden had temporarily moved in with her parents. Her mom had been happy to have her home, of course, and Arden had enjoyed the preparations for the holiday, even if she hadn’t been able to do much to help.

  “Why so glum, doll?” Rose said. Arden glanced her way. Laney had disappeared and both babies were sleeping in their travel beds.

  “I’m not glum,” she said, her voice as bright and hard as a new penny.

  “You think he ditched you, right?”

  “Who?”

  Rose laughed. “The man who was at the hospital every single day you were in it? The one who has driven you to almost every doctor’s appointment you’ve attended? Kane Walker? Did he tell you he was coming?”

  “He was supposed to be here a half hour ago,” she responded. “He’s not here. I’m not sure what your definition of ditching is, but that kind of seems like it to me.”

  “Half an hour, huh?” Rose patted her white curls and sighed. “That seems like a long time when you’re waiting, but in the grand scheme of life, it’s less than the blink of an eye.”

  “I know.” Arden really did. Half an hour wasn’t long. Anything could have happened to keep Kane from arriving on time. Her head knew that, but her heart was telling her something different. It was telling her she’d been fooled before.

  “Of course you do. Just like you know he’s coming because he said he would. Some men are like that. They say what they mean and do what they say. When you find a guy like that, you really should hang on to him.”

  “I know that, too,” she said, setting Sebastian down a few feet away from the Christmas tree.

  “Then why are you letting your worries ruin your day?”

  “I’m not.” Much.

  “I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice, Arden. Because I’m old and I can. Do you mind?”

  Arden smiled, her first real smile of the evening. “You know I don’t, Rose.”

  “Leave the past where it is. Enjoy the moments that are given to you and the people who are in those moments. Once they’re gone, you can’t get them back.” She smiled. “Now, how’s that for Christmas cheer?”

  “I kind of liked it,” Arden said. She leaned in and kissed Rose’s soft cheek. “Thanks.”

  “If you want to thank me, go see if you can find some real mistletoe. That plastic crud has got to go.” She waved at the glossy, fake-looking sprig.

  “Are you planning to steal a midnight kiss underneath it?” Arden teased, and Rose grinned.

  “Stranger things have happened. But not under plastic mistletoe.”

  “My mom left a box of Christmas greenery on the porch. Maybe there’s some in there.”

  “No need for you to go outside, my dear. I was kidding. Fake mistletoe won’t ruin this lovely holiday.”

  “I don’t mind looking, Rose.” The box had been sitting there for nearly a week, forgotten in the excitement of the twins coming home from the hospital. Arden had planned to drape the greenery around the porch railing and tack it to the windows. She’d also planned to put up the fresh green wreath with the pretty red bows that her mother had bought from the local Christmas tree farm.

  No one had let her touch any of it. She was too weak, too delicate. She was still recovering. The list of reasons had been long, and Arden had been too tired to argue. But now the greenery was still in the box, and it seemed a shame to waste it.

  She shoved her feet in boots but didn’t bother with a coat. She wouldn’t be outside for long.

  She stepped onto the porch. Cold wind whistled beneath the eaves, and the air smelled like snow and evergreen and fresh apple pie.

  She rifled through the box one-handed and pulled out a long rope of greenery. There were tiny Christmas lights woven through it, and she could picture the porch railing glowing colorfully once the sun went down.

  She dragged the greenery from the box and walked down the porch stairs, the chilly winter evening filled with the quiet Christmas hush that she’d always loved so much. There
—in that quiet expectancy—she’d always felt God’s presence. There, more than anywhere else, she’d always felt at peace.

  She wrapped the greenery around the railing, then added more to each of the balusters, humming Christmas carols as she went. Every bit of greenery that went up made her happier. Why not do what Rose had said? Why not enjoy the moments and the people in them?

  It was Christmas of this year, and she was here to enjoy it.

  “O holy night!” she began, belting out the familiar carol. “The stars are brightly shiiiiining—”

  “If I’d realized you’d be singing, I would have gotten here sooner,” Kane broke in.

  She whirled around, saw him walking down the snowy sidewalk. He’d parked up the road, the driveway too filled with family cars for his SUV to fit. She could see the gleaming hood of his Chevy near the corner of the street. A man got out of the back passenger seat. She thought it must be Silas, but she was too busy focusing on Kane to pay much attention.

  “You’re here!” she said as she walked into his embrace. “Finally.”

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to take a quick trip to pick up a surprise.” He kissed her forehead, shrugged out of his coat and dropped it around her shoulders. “I’m assuming you have a reason for being outside without a coat?”

  “Just living in the moment,” she responded.

  “Could you have done that with a coat on?” he asked.

  She smiled and took his hand, pulling him up the porch stairs. “I’m looking for mistletoe. Rose doesn’t like the fake stuff my mom hung.”

  “I’m shocked,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling.

  “That she doesn’t like plastic mistletoe?”

  “That you don’t want to know what the surprise is.”

  “Logic dictates that surprises are meant to be secrets that are revealed when the presenter is ready.”

  “What if I’m ready?” he asked. He put a hand on her good shoulder and turned her back to face the street.

  Two men were walking toward her, a dog trotting along beside them. She recognized Silas and Dutch immediately. The other man was tall and broad-shouldered, his hair cut in a military style, his face partially covered by a thick layer of white gauze. He was using a walker, easing up the street like an old man, but he wasn’t old. He looked about the same age as her brother...