“You’re not walking, Rebecca. Come here.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
Smiling and muttering, Joe picked up the duffle and trudged through the snow to the Hummer.
“You know what you need, Rebecca? You need to be taken down a peg or two. I could do it. But for now—” He scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder like Santa flings his pack onto his back. Except Santa’s pack doesn’t protest.
“Put me down!”
David stepped onto the snowy porch, pulled the door closed and locked it, as he balanced Rebecca with one hand on her upper thigh. She tried very hard not to like the way it felt.
“David. Seriously.”
“Rebecca. Seriously. Shut up.”
Reaching the passenger side of the vehicle, David quickly shifted Rebecca until she was lying in his arms, looking up at him, instead of across his shoulder, watching as they left the cabin behind. For a moment she thought he might kiss her again, thought she might let him. But Joe was watching their every move. She wondered what would have happened if David had politely told Joe to go rescue someone else for a while and then maybe come back here in a day or so to see what the status was. Instead, they’d be headed in different directions, and probably not see each other again.
The moment of opportunity for a kiss was quickly gone, if it had existed at all. Joe opened the rear passenger door from inside the truck, and David lifted Rebecca up into it. Closing the door quickly, he let himself into shotgun position.
Rebecca settled back, determined to forget what had almost happened in the cabin, and concentrate on seeing Midnight. That’s why she’d made this trip, after all.
The scenery was beautiful. She could appreciate it now, riding in the big truck and feeling safe and warm. A thick blanket of pristine snow clung to limbs of evergreens, bowing them down with the weight. The sun shone brightly and the glare off the snow had her searching through her little purse until she found her sunglasses.
“My orders are to deliver Sharklady to Martin’s, and take you to Mom and Dad’s.” Joe watched the road carefully as he spoke. “Sure would be easier if I knew where the edge of the road is.”
“Well, bro, if you hit the ditch or run into a fence, I think you’ll just climb over it in this thing.”
“True enough, but if I scratch it, the owner might not be happy.” He smiled grimly, staring straight ahead, and driving down what seemed to be the middle of the road bed, a U-shaped sluice with high sides that she decided were probably fences. “Even with all-wheel drive, this is no picnic, man. There’s ice goin’ on down there, in case you didn’t know.”
Rebecca hoped no one else was out driving the dangerous roads. No way could they safely meet another vehicle.
David rolled his window down halfway, and stuck his arm out, then flicked off some remnants of ice from the windshield. “Yeah, I heard ice hitting the roof yesterday evening. Probably should have packed up and hit the road immediately down to the home place, but… well, I had things to do.”
“I know, David. I know.”
Rebecca recognized the sound of compassion in Joe’s voice.
Shaken, she realized her life had probably been saved by David’s snap decision to stay in the cabin instead of heading to town when the ice hit.
After a few minutes of driving, Joe stopped in front of a two-story log cabin. It sat near the road, and the narrow expanse of what was probably a lawn was now a sheet of pure white. Snow and ice, Rebecca reminded herself. Surrounded by more of the snow-laden pine trees, and with a thick plume of smoke rising from the chimney, it looked picture perfect. They stopped, and Joe shut off the engine.
“Don’t want to waste gas. I’ve got some extra with me, but I sure don’t want to run out. This thing is a guzzler, as you might have guessed.”
The front door of the cabin opened, and Midnight Shelby McClain stepped outside, wearing a purple fleece jacket, snug jeans, and knee-high black leather boots. Her long black hair fell straight to the middle of her back, and shone nearly blue in the bright sunlight. A tall dark man with a goatee came out of the house behind her and followed at a slower pace, and then a younger version of the man. Obviously Martin and Daniel. What a beautiful family!
Without thinking, Rebecca opened her door and jumped out of the Hummer, rounding the corner of the vehicle just in time to be caught up in Midnight’s tight hug.
“Becca! I’m so glad you’re here! So glad you’re okay!”
“Yeah, except for this tendency she has toward hypothermia. You want to go into the house, Rebecca, or stand here with snow way up past your toy boots and freeze to death?” Without waiting for an answer, David trudged past her, carrying her laptop case and purse.
She caught the eye roll he shot Martin as he walked past him, and heard one of them say, “Women!” with an edge of disdain in his voice.
Not caring, she walked arm in arm with Midnight toward the house, teetering and sliding on the ankle boots’ stiletto heels, feeling the cold and wet soaking through the legs of the big sweat pants.
When the women stepped inside the cabin, the four men were sharing snow and ice stories. Midnight introduced Rebecca to her husband and stepson. It was impressive that Daniel had the manners to shake hands. Not bad for a fifteen year old.
Joe broke into David’s story of the collapsed garage. “Well, that’s one rescue safely completed. Now to deliver my big brother on down the road. See you all later?”
“Sure thing.” Martin slapped Joe on the back and shook David’s hand.
“You doing okay, David?” His voice was soft and full of concern.
“Yeah. I’m fine, Martin. I’ll see you later.”
“Glad to hear that. We miss you.”
“I know. Same here.”
Rebecca immediately loved the cabin. The large main room was a combination living-dining with a breakfast bar dividing it from the cozy kitchen beyond. In the large picture window stood a fresh evergreen tree tastefully decorated as only Midnight could do. A small library/study, laundry room, and bathroom completed the first floor. Three bedrooms and two full baths were upstairs. Midnight hurried Rebecca into the master bedroom.
“Our room has its own bath, so you can go ahead and shower in here. While you have a nice hot shower, or bath, I’ll go through my closet and see if any of my clothes might not swallow you. I’d forgotten how tiny you are.”
She closed the door and Rebecca pulled off the borrowed clothes and dropped them onto the floor. Then she picked up the flannel shirt again, looked at the partially unraveled hem, and held the shirt to her face. It smelled like David. How odd was that? Twenty-four hours ago she’d never even heard of him, and now, smelling his scent on a beat-up flannel shirt had her sighing and missing him.
She tossed the shirt back down. Of course it was silly. She was just having some sort of post traumatic stress thing, no doubt. She’d get over it, and him, quickly. Probably by the time she was in clean clothes, she’d have forgotten about him entirely.
Chapter Seven
David growled at Joe when his brother insisted on taking him to their parents’ house instead of letting David go along on rescues. Although he understood the reason—to make Mom feel better—he didn’t want to sit around on his folks’ chintz furniture and talk about the weather. About the siblings, and their kids. He wanted to be out doing something. Because he seriously needed to distract his mind. Otherwise he was afraid he’d be thinking about Miz Rebecca Mayfield. That wouldn’t do at all.
What might have happened if Joe hadn’t shown up when he had? If they’d been able to stay in the cabin another few hours, or perhaps another day, would they have made love on the couch in front of the fire? Possibly. But Joe had to show up in the big machomobile and rescue them. Yee haw.
But a night of lovemaking with Miz Mayfield was not all he wanted. He wanted to spend time with her, get to know her better. There was definitely something…
“Hey! Ow!” David rubbed his shoulder w
here Joe had just punched him.
“Ugly! I said, get out of the truck! I got places to go! Stop mooning around, David, and figure out what you’re gonna do about her. Man! You are so pathetic!” He practically shoved David from the truck. When he was barely out of the way, Joe pulled the vehicle out of their parents’ drive, or yard—it was hard to tell which—and headed back up the road to see if some of the mountain families wanted to be brought to town till the roads were cleared.
Charles and Dorothy McClain met their eldest son at the door of their large white clapboard house and welcomed him with hugs and a big cup of black coffee. He sat in the kitchen with them for half an hour, drank the coffee, and recounted the highlights of his last eighteen hours or so.
“How are you, dear?”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
She looked into his eyes for a long moment. “Yes, I think you are, David.” With suspiciously bright eyes, she reached across the table and patted his hand. “I think you really are.”
A short time later, David was soaking in an antique claw-foot tub of hot water, leaning back with his eyes closed as he relived every minute of the time he’d spent with Rebecca Mayfield.
This sure wasn’t a relationship. It was more of a one-upsmanship. I could never care for somebody like that. She’s nothing like Holly. His beloved wife had spent her short life helping people. When she was gone, David tried to do that for her. He tried to make a difference in peoples’ lives. Sometimes he worked so hard at it that he exhausted himself in the process. But that exhaustion helped numb him from Holly’s loss.
But… It had been five years, and except for a miserable blind date here and there, he’d been alone the whole time. He’d done his grieving and had honored Holly’s memory. He needed to move on now. Maybe it would be okay to show some interest in Rebecca. What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Then again, what’s the best?
* * * *
Rebecca descended the simple wood staircase into the living room. Midnight and Martin looked up from the books they were reading by the fireplace.
“Well? What do you think?” She smoothed her hands down her sides. “It’s a good thing I started losing my hips at forty, or these would never have worked.”
Martin appraised her quickly, then looked inquiringly at Midnight. “Hm. Am I going to get in trouble if I say those jeans never looked like that when Daniel wore them?”
Midnight laughed. “No. I’ll have to agree with you there.” She looked up at Rebecca. “Of course those jeans were pre-me. I didn’t realize we still had clothes here that Daniel outgrew—what? Four years ago?”
“Three. Maybe four. Not sure. But look at them. Jeans are practically new, and the sweater is a classic. It looks like what you’d buy anywhere today. I’d say you should thank me for having that old stuff around.” He looked at Midnight, then to Rebecca, clearly waiting for his thank you.
“Hm. We’ll see.” Midnight winked and walked over to her petite friend. “The raglan sleeves on this sweater help it fit. And the emerald green is great on you.” She sighed. “Okay, Martin, I do thank you for keeping Daniel’s old clothes and for bringing them out of storage. They’ve washed up fine.”
“Yesss! I did something right!”
“Oh honey, you do lots of things right.” Midnight sat down on the arm of his chair and ran her fingers through his hair. Then she leaned down and gave him a long, slow kiss. “Mmm. Lots of things.” Martin’s arms went around her, pulling her closer.
Daniel came running down the stairs, and stopped when he saw the scene. “Geez. Can you guys give it a rest? We’ve got company here.” He looked at Rebecca apologetically. “They get like this sometimes. It’s disgusting, but I try to ignore it.” He continued through the living room toward the kitchen, and called over his shoulder, “Cool sweater, Miz Mayfield. I used to have one like that.”
“But it didn’t look the same on you.” Martin received a light swat on the shoulder from his wife for the comment. “Ow!”
Rebecca giggled, something that didn’t happen often. She actually couldn’t recall the last time she’d done it. She dropped onto the dark chocolate leather couch and drew her sock feet up under her. “Okay then. I guess I pass inspection.”
Midnight’s little family was absolutely charming. Rebecca felt accepted and at home with them. And now she had several pairs of jeans and some sweaters to wear, plus some flannel pajamas with black bears on them, and another pair with horses.
“You feel okay about the clothes, Rebecca?” Midnight looked concerned. “The gathering at Charles and Dorothy’s is casual.”
“Yes. Absolutely. They’re not exactly the types of things I packed in my suitcase, but I think these will be better.” I would have felt out of place in the designer clothes, the dress pants and expensive sweaters. I want to fit in here…for the short time I’m around.
Rebecca’s hand went to her diamond stud earring, twisting the back. “So, Charles and Dorothy are McClains, I take it?”
“Yes. My uncle and aunt.” Martin trailed his hand along Midnight’s arm as she stood and went to sit in her own chair by the fire. The look in his eyes sent a message to his wife that said Later.
Rebecca felt her face color. These two obviously had the right kind of marriage. Good for them. But about this evening…
“So, it’s at their house?”
Midnight twisted around at an angle in the armchair, swinging her long legs over the arm. She smoothed her shiny black hair behind her shoulders. “It’s at Charles and Dorothy’s house, just a short drive from here. We’ll be fine in the Jeep, especially since Joe’s been through in that big truck and left some tracks. Depending on what the roads are like, it may be a houseful. Some of the family lives out of town quite a distance, and with small children, they might not make the trip if they think the roads are too bad.”
Martin said, “Don’t worry about my family, Rebecca. We’re mostly friendly. Definitely nothing to worry about as far as having somebody to talk to. There are dozens of us, all ages.”
She wasn’t worried about the McClain family in general. She was wondering about one particular member of the family. Would he be there?
“Oh yeah, and you already know us, and Joe and David.” Martin seemed to think this was encouraging news.
“Joe and David will be there?” She hoped it sounded nonchalant.
“Skipping it wouldn’t be an option. It’s their parents’ house, you know.” He said it as if it were obvious.
Rebecca began to twist the earring back again. “No, I didn’t know. Ah.” How did she feel about seeing David again?
Midnight began to swing one leg. “Um. About David. I suppose I’d just as well tell you, if you haven’t already figured it out. When I called you a few days ago? David is the guy I mentioned wanting you to meet.” Martin’s jaw snapped shut with a look from Midnight. “I’d intended it to happen at his parents’ house tonight. Much less dramatic than being snowbound. Overnight, no less.” She smiled at Rebecca and her black eyes sparkled. “I think you’re perfect for him.”
“Ah. Well. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He is interesting.” Rebecca felt a blush coming on—something that hadn’t happened to her in years.
“And a hunk.”
“Yes. And that.”
“And damaged. Do you know about Holly?”
“Yes. He told me. How awful.”
“He needs to move on.”
Rebecca thought back to the scene in the kitchen the moment before Joe arrived. “I think he’s beginning to do that.”
“Do you?” Midnight raised a brow and cocked her head. “Hm. That’s good. I was hoping.”
Chapter Eight
David decided to be as helpful to his mom as he could while she was putting last minute touches on the food for tonight. He stirred three crock-pots of mashed potatoes loaded with butter, sour cream, and cream cheese. He’d spent much of the afternoon peeling the potatoes. David wanted to eat out of the
big stir spoon, but restrained himself. He was very good at restraint.
The best way to get through this evening was to stay very busy in the kitchen. He’d already polished and set out all the silverware, carried out plates, napkins, and glasses to the buffet tables. At his mother’s direction, he’d lit every candle in sight, most of which were scented. The whole house, huge as it was, smelled like turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, vanilla, cinnamon, and bayberry. His stomach was turning over and over, but he knew it wasn’t just because the food smelled fantastic. He was anxious about what it would be like to see Rebecca again. He was, in fact, nervous—an emotion David McClain did not often experience. He wanted to see her again, see how she looked in his parents’ house. And he refused to think about why that was important to him.
His dad came down the back staircase having changed into fresh slacks and a sweater without holes in the elbows—per his wife’s instructions. “David, how’s it going in here?”
“Good, Dad. I think we’re ready for the onslaught.”
“Your mother seems to believe everything’s under control. She’s not quite as deep into panic mode as she usually is about this time. She’s upstairs changing clothes, humming White Christmas. Your help makes a big difference.” The tall, stately, white-haired man put a frilly apron over his clothes and took a turkey roaster out of one of the large ovens to check the bird. “Looks like this guy’s ready too.” He set the heavy pan to one side. “Holly was always a big help, too— Oh, David! Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m okay. You’re right, Holly was a big help, and she loved Christmas more than any time of year. She lit up the place, I always thought.”
His father leaned on the counter and crossed his arms across his big chest. “She sure did, son. She was one special girl.” His voice was soft.
David’s eyes burned a little. “She was amazingly special, and we were lucky to have her as long as we did. I was lucky she married me and put up with me. Now, though, I need to let her go. I think I never have managed that.”
“It must be hard for you, son. I can’t imagine how hard.”
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