A Legendary Christmas

by Jan Scarbrough

  In spite of herself, Rebecca smiled. “You know me too well. But I am really not looking right now. Just had something end rather poorly, and, well, it’s definitely too soon. So please don’t get your hopes up on that, okay? It’s good of you, but still.”

  “All right. Understood. But think about Christmas. No pressure. Just show up Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. Sooner if you want.”

  “If I do come, what can I bring?”

  “Just yourself, and a sense of adventure. Martin’s family is huge, and they love getting together at holidays. Very festive. There’s also a Christmas Eve candlelight church service we can go to in town. It’s non-denominational, and really nice. Just about everybody goes.”

  Rebecca imagined it. Small town Christmas. Picturesque. Hokey. But somehow, surprisingly tempting. Midnight’s life had turned around when she moved to Legend, Tennessee from the City. Perhaps there was something special there for Rebecca too. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Midnight. Maybe I’ll see you.”

  Maybe a quaint little snow-covered mountain Christmas was just the tonic she needed.

  Chapter One

  A lifetime later, Rebecca hated Christmas. Hated the tiny white rental car she’d had to settle for. Hated, hated, hated snow. It was blowing hard, coming at her in waves it seemed, as she gripped the steering wheel for dear life and stared in what she hoped was the direction the road was headed. She wished now that when she’d exited the Interstate eons ago, she had just pulled up to the entryway of a friendly motel and asked for a room.

  If she saw a motel now, she would do it, no question. But Rebecca hadn’t seen one in a long time. She hadn’t even seen a house in quite a while. Or another car. Or even one of those dratted SUVs that had towered over her and sprayed the little rental car with snow and road salt for so many hours. During her flight from the City to Ashville, Rebecca marveled at the fact that she was on her way to Tennessee for Christmas. She’d never been in the state before. And except for the fact that it was generally shaped like a parallelogram, and had a famous mountain range, she knew little about it.

  Midnight Shelby had moved there after the ugly divorce Rebecca had represented her in. Midnight had been done with men, done with the corporate life, and had wanted a major change. She found the little town of Legend, Tennessee on the internet by way of a realtor’s web site. She bought a building sight unseen, moved there and started a business, The Emporium, selling locally made arts and crafts. Not long after, Midnight had fallen in love with her realtor, the handsome Martin McClain. Now she was Martin’s very happy wife, and step-mom to Daniel Martin McClain, age fifteen. What a difference two years had made! And now, finally, Rebecca was on her way to her friend’s new hometown. At least she had been while she’d been able to follow the printed directions and see road signs. Now… who knew? Finding Midnight’s idyllic town was turning into a stress-fest all its own.

  She was definitely in a mountain range, on a small road or highway. She didn’t know which and couldn’t see enough outside to know if there were road signs or not. It was just one big white blur all around her, and further out was the darkness of night. The little white car was invisible in it, even to her. There wasn’t a working radio so she could hear meteorologists tell her she was in the middle of a blizzard.

  Which she definitely was.

  The only thing that kept her going was the set of tracks she’d been following. She hoped the person ahead of her was going somewhere she’d be welcome too. She knew better than to try to catch up with the vehicle, as the snow was slippery. Was there ice underneath? She’d never seen whatever had made the tracks. It seemed forever since she’d seen another human being. Any human being would be such a welcome relief to her right now, she thought.

  What about Gerald? Tall, blonde, handsome, successful Gerald with the amazing kisses and talented hands. She wondered if she would be glad to see him. It had been a few weeks now since the text message.

  Dprtr chngd. Thx 4 evthg. G.

  He’d changed the departure date on the romantic cruise Rebecca had planned and paid for, and had taken another woman. Rebecca phoned his cell from the doorman’s desk at her apartment building, to fool Gerald’s caller ID. When he answered, Rebecca confronted him and asked point-blank. He admitted he’d found someone else. He did, however, offer to remain Rebecca’s friend. At least she had the satisfaction of hanging up on him.

  Maybe Gerald was looking for something more. Something like “happily ever after.” Rebecca, in her vast personal and legal experience, knew it didn’t exist.

  No, even as lost and weary as she was, she knew she’d cheerfully run Gerald down in the road if he’d had the misfortune to be there.

  Without taking her eyes off the tracks in the snow, Rebecca reached across to her little tapestry handbag perched on the laptop case in the passenger seat. She pulled her cell phone out of its exterior pocket and flipped it open. No tiny light shone up at her. She’d left the phone on during the drive when its battery had already been low, and now it was totally dead. The charger in her suitcase wouldn’t do any good—it was for a wall outlet. Rebecca didn’t own a car charger, since she didn’t own a car.

  “Great!” She snapped the phone closed again, slipped it into its pocket. “But who would I call anyway? And what would I tell them? Hey Midnight, I’m on the way. But I actually have no clue where I am. Can you come and get me? I’ll be the one in the invisible white car in the giant blizzard. See you in a sec, girlfriend. Bye.”

  Earlier, if she’d called to ask Midnight if she was taking the right exit, that would have helped. But Rebecca had the printed directions and tiny map. She’d been too sure of herself to ask for help. Self-assurance was a plus in her line of work. You don’t take a client into divorce court if you’re uncertain of your abilities. Rebecca had always been self-assured, self-confident, self-reliant.

  She found it difficult to be glad for those qualities at this moment, however.

  Having a harder time seeing the tracks, she wondered whether she was falling further behind, or if the snow was coming down faster. The term “snow-blindness” entered her mind. The way it swirled in her headlights was hypnotic. She just wanted to lay her head down and sleep. Her eyelids drooped time and again, and once they stayed shut for a fraction of a second too long.

  When she opened them, the little car was sliding off the road into a very soft white ditch. The sound of metal against metal told her that somewhere along the right side of the car there was a fence.

  She wasn’t hurt, had been traveling too slowly and come to such a cushy stop, there hadn’t seemed to be much of an impact, except for the scraping of the fence. Plus she always wore her seat belt. Rebecca sighed with relief.

  She knew it was ridiculous to be glad she was stuck in a snow bank, but in a way that was fine. She didn’t want to drive anymore. How long would the little car have traveled on the most recent tank of gas she’d bought? Too long already! She painfully removed her shaking fingers from the steering wheel. Should she let the car run or turn it off? Not knowing, she let it run and left the lights on, hoping someone would come along and notice her. Preferably someone in one of those four-wheel drive SUVs with lots of room and the ability to get where they were going.

  She looked at her watch. Eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve night, sitting in a rental car in a snowstorm. Not her cup of tea. But no way was she going to get out of the car and try to walk to shelter. Her stomach growled. She’d stopped at a fast food place when she’d filled the car with gas, but that was hours ago. Drinking the last of her cold coffee from the Styrofoam cup, she settled back into the seat to rest…and wait.

  Chapter Two

  Rebecca awoke, cold and disoriented. Then she remembered where she was—lost—and how she’d gotten there—stupidity. The little car seemed to have run out of gas, as its engine had stopped running. The lights weren’t on anymore so she guessed its battery had also been discharged. She clicked the ignition off, and as she expected, it
did nothing when she tried to turn it back on. It was completely dark outside, something she never saw in the City with its massive light pollution. Rebecca couldn’t make out any light at all except the moon.

  “Hey—the moon! I can see you up there! That must mean the snow stopped. All right! But unfortunately that doesn’t get me out of this ditch.” Needing heat, Rebecca pulled her laptop out of its case and turned it on, setting it on her knees. The screen lit up and the little fan motor whirred softly. She tried to find a wireless network, knowing it was pointless. Nothing. She clicked the lid closed again. Soon the heat of the computer’s battery helped warm her legs.

  Rebecca sniffed. What was that smell? She should be able to identify it… “Oh man, I smell smoke! Wood smoke! And I seriously need to stop talking to myself! But hell, who else am I going to talk to?” She craned her neck around and saw it. A faint yellow light coming from two small windows on a hill behind her. Someone was in a house up there. Someone who was burning a wood fire that smelled, right now, absolutely heavenly.

  Hurriedly scrambling as excitement, relief and anticipation warred for reign over her senses, Rebecca gathered her laptop case and purse, yanked the keys out of the ignition and pushed hard against the car door. Snow had piled up against it as she’d slept, and it took every ounce of strength to get the door opened against the snow and the fact that she was pushing it uphill from her cock-eyed perch in the ditch. Holding the door open with one fashionable black ankle boot, she gave a last heave and climbed out of the car with her paraphernalia in tow.

  A literal sinking sensation overcame her as she realized she was nearly knee-deep in snow. It was cold, wet, and made her feel miserably hopeless. But she quickly quashed these emotions and summoned her usual persona. Self-assurance, self-confidence, and self-reliance. She squared her shoulders and took one step, then another. The car door fell shut with a slam behind her, and she headed toward the wood smoke and the little windows with the yellow light. She didn’t allow herself to wonder if the people in that house were likely to let her in. She would get in, get warm and dry, and when the snow stopped, someone would get that damned rental car running for her, and she’d be on her way.

  It seemed to take hours to get to the house. She was a poor judge of distance anyway, and the physical exertion of trudging through the snow, her chattering teeth, and nagging thoughts of frostbite didn’t help. Twice, she tripped headlong into the soft snow, unable to see in the dark even with the moonlight. She was freezing and shaking when she pushed the doorbell. Then she realized the doorbell was just a knotty place in the wood she’d somehow found with her forefinger in her much-too-thin kid glove. She knocked on the door. Nothing. She pounded then, weakly, but not stopping until the door opened.

  Soft light spilled out the open doorway, and a tall masculine figure blocked her view of the room. Rebecca didn’t know what to say, had not planned her opening remarks as a good attorney always does. Her only thought had been to force her body to reach the house. Her chattering teeth wouldn’t have allowed coherent speech anyway.

  “Help,” was all she managed, softly, before feeling herself begin to collapse. He yanked the computer bag from her shoulder and pulled her into the room as the door slammed behind her. A blast of wind whooshed through the cabin, extinguishing the flame of a single white pillar candle on the coffee table.

  “Are you nuts, woman?” He tossed her tapestry purse on top of the laptop case. Next, he removed her beloved emerald cloak and dumped it on the floor. Then came the snug leather gloves, pulled off quickly and landing inside-out on top of the cloak. He sat her onto the couch and knelt down, unzipping her ankle boots and throwing them in the general vicinity of her other belongings.

  “Hey! Those are—”

  “Completely useless in snow? Right. What are you dressed for? A business meeting in a climate-controlled office? It’s twelve degrees! What are you doing way out here?”

  His questions came fast and furious, and his hands moved over her just as quickly. Before she realized what was going on, Rebecca was on the couch completely nude. A moment later, she found herself wrapped in a down-filled comforter.

  “Hey!” she said again, wishing words would appear in her mind to deride him for his cavalier attitude and rough treatment. Not to mention the fact that he had undressed her without even a proper introduction.

  “Yeah, yeah, just a minute.” He grabbed the white pillar candle off the coffee table and stalked away, returning in a moment with a thick chocolate-brown towel which he wrapped rather awkwardly around her wet hair. Then he was out of her sight again. Rebecca sank into the somewhat lumpy couch cushions, willing herself to stop shaking. A few minutes later the man reappeared with a heavy pottery mug in his hand. Steam rose from it enticingly.

  “Tea?” Would Earl Grey be too much to ask for?

  “Coffee. Strong and black.” He thrust the cup at her without apology. From his dialect, she surmised she had at least managed to get to Eastern Tennessee somewhere.

  “Okay.” Strong and black was the only way she drank coffee, something she probably did more frequently than her doctor would like. A snowstorm seemed to call for tea, or hot cocoa, but Rebecca put that down to her romantic spirit.

  Which she had thought was long dead.

  Reaching for the big mug, she dislodged the arrangement of the comforter around her shoulders. She shifted it and got one hand out, holding the comforter together with her other hand. Relief washed over her as she gripped the warm mug. She was safe, almost dry, and nearly warm, too. No more worries about dying in that snowdrift with the tiny car as her casket. She closed her eyes as the first blessed sip of coffee slid down her throat.

  “Mmm, this is surely the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

  “So in other words you are starved, dehydrated, and have completely lost your mind while out wandering in the snow.”

  Rebecca glanced up sharply at him then. She wanted to say something cutting, because he was being unkind. But her intrusion could have been met with a much worse welcome. Instead of speaking again, she continued to sip the coffee and look at the man. This seemed to bother him, and he paced a moment before throwing himself into an overstuffed chair across the rough wood coffee table from her. He didn’t break eye contact for long though, except to notice when the comforter shifted as she sat up a little straighter, exposing one slender white shoulder to the cold air, and his glance, for a moment.

  “Okay, you’re warming up now. Want to tell me what you’re doing way out here in this weather, on Christmas Eve?”

  “Hm. I guess I owe you that much. My name is Rebecca. I was driving to a friend’s house to spend the holiday, and I lost my way. Then I slid off the road. My rental car is a little distance from here. I got stuck in a snow bank, and I saw your lights.”

  Rebecca realized she could be in considerable danger here, having absolutely no way to defend herself if the man wanted to hurt her. But she was confident he wouldn’t do that. Something in his blue eyes made her trust him. She saw honor there, and compassion, though she hadn’t noticed the latter in his voice.

  He was a big man, standing easily over six feet tall, and broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair sprinkled with white, a handsome face, an interesting mouth, and a very nice physique well displayed by his worn jeans and gray thermal shirt. She wondered briefly at the waste of his being here alone, then realized there could be someone else in the little cabin who just hadn’t shown himself. Or herself.

  “And you are?” she prompted.

  “Your savior.” He extracted himself from the big chair and stalked away again. Why? She hadn’t asked anything of him but his name. That seemed only fair. What else was there to discuss at this point?

  The man didn’t return. She listened intently but heard no sounds, and finally put her empty mug on the table. Being careful of the arrangement of the comforter, she slipped down into the cushions.

  Rebecca lay there for a long while, enjoying the crackling fire that had wa
rmed her body, the smell of whose smoke had helped save her life. She thought she could see people dancing in the flames, very energetically. The way they danced together mesmerized her. The more she watched, the more she saw two distinct figures dancing together. Maybe it was a Latin dance of some sort. It was so sultry—more like lovemaking than dancing. Two fluid bodies, one much larger, towering over the small one at times, reaching for the small one, and the small one reaching toward the other and then dancing away a moment later, teasing, until the larger one overtook it and the two danced so closely together for a while that they became one big flame. Crackling, sending out sparks, putting off waves of heat.

  Rebecca knew it was just her mind playing tricks, that she was tired and needed sleep. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the dancing flames, and she couldn’t help noticing that she was getting warmer by the moment. She felt her breathing become heavier, as she saw herself as the small flame, and the man in the cabin with her as the large one.

  How would it feel to dance so close to that big handsome man? How would it feel if he reached out for her, and she to him? And if she pulled away, would he overtake her, pull her into him until they became one? Until their dance brought them together in that most intimate of dances?

  He put his hand on her bare shoulder and she screamed.

  “What?” he yelled, jumping back a good foot. “I just touched your shoulder. Holy— You looked like you were in a trance or something. I thought…”

  Horrified that he had found her getting hot and bothered by his fire, Rebecca reacted in her usual way—she lashed out.

  “You don’t ever sneak up and touch me and not expect a reaction. Don’t try it again, mister. I know karate. I might as well tell you that now. I’m from the big city, where women know how to take care of themselves. So just back off.” She narrowed her gaze to let him know she was serious.

  He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. Rebecca suspected he was hiding a smile, but he turned his back on her before she got a good look at his eyes to verify that. A minute or two passed, then he faced her again.