A Legendary Christmas

by Jan Scarbrough

  She’d tried calling Margaret several times, but the lines were down and she still hadn’t taken that first step into the twenty-first century to purchase computer or cell phone. Until now, both had seemed an unnecessary expense. She didn’t fear for her mother-in-law, or for Lisa, but was afraid they wouldn’t be able to fly in tomorrow if the airports closed, or flights were cancelled. She knew there was a very good chance one or both could happen.

  Disappointment was already settling in. She’d never planned to spend the holiday without her child. Even now, dressed in thermal underwear bottoms and wool sox, Santa was putting together the new Sassy Siren bike Lisa had coveted for the past three months, ever since her best friend Kelly Winthrop had gotten one for her birthday.

  It would break her heart to not have Lisa home to see all the fun new things Santa brought with the bike. But mostly she wanted to give her daughter a hug. Ever since her teacher called the morning before to explain about the class sending the Dear Santa letters out on balloons back before Thanksgiving, she hadn’t had any clues as to how Jack had come into her life. Though it was all still a little sketchy from his end, at least now she knew that, through coincidence, or fate, her daughter had brought her a man she knew she was already half in love with.

  She turned, stepping back into the house, closing the door quickly behind her. “It’s already getting bad out there. And we’re out of condoms.”

  Jack stopped turning the wrench and allowed the tall handlebars to fall. “Out? Completely?”

  Christina nodded. “Yes. All twenty of them are gone.”

  Jack grinned. “That could be a problem.”

  “Indeed.”

  He blew out a breath and turned to pull on the thick flannel shirt lying across the couch. He then left the living room, returning moments later with jeans covering his long, long legs. “I’m taking the truck. It’ll only take me about twenty-five minutes there and back. Do you need anything else?”

  Christina shook her head. She didn’t worry about Jack driving the truck, as he’d driven her all over the county as they’d spent some of their time getting him familiar with the local roads. But the conditions outside were not to be ignored. “I could drive.”

  Jack looked at her as if she’d insulted his manhood. She rolled her eyes and handed him the keys. Then reached into her pocket for a roll of bills. He took the money, hesitated, then turned and left, sending a shaft of cold air in as he went out.

  Christina watched at the frosted front window as he got into the truck, turned on the headlights, and was pulling away. She knew that Jack was getting antsy about not having an identity, and therefore being unable to get work, but he’d done so much for her and with her—and yes, even to her—that had improved her life, that she honestly didn’t give a hoot. But she knew they’d have to do something to discover who he was as soon as the holidays were over, because Jack was a man’s man, and depending on a woman for his livelihood would probably injure his spirit. She’d already seen his frustration, though he was gentleman enough to suck it up and keep moving on, doing whatever needed doing, including making her happy.

  She went about the house looking to make sure all was ready for tomorrow, even though she now feared Christmas would have to be delayed for the Montgomery’s of Legend, Tennessee. If only the phone lines worked, she could tell Lisa that Santa had come, and her presents were waiting for her to get home, too. She just didn’t want Lisa disappointed. Especially since her own Christmas wishes were all coming true.

  She checked her watch repeatedly, until she began to feel alarmed. Thirty minutes had passed. Then forty. And still no Jack. She threw on her heaviest parka, wrapped her face in a soft, tightly crocheted scarf, and covered her head with the coat’s fur-lined hat. She pulled on rubber boots, still hoping he’d show up any minute, then stepped outside, alarmed to see slick sheets of ice building over top of and mixed inside the now half-foot of snow.

  Careful, yet hurrying as fast as she could run, Christina slid open the heavy barn doors, relieved ice hadn’t yet frozen them closed. She snatched keys from a bent nail and climbed aboard the nineteen fifty-five model, Farm All Cub tractor. Johnny had finally taught her how to drive it a few years into their marriage, but it had been a long time ago, and the tractor hadn’t been started since her neighbor used it over a year ago.

  She said a quick prayer, pushed in the clutch, pulled out the choke, and turned the key. Like music to her ears the engine hit and the little rain cap at the top of the exhaust pipe jumped up and down, clattering for all it was worth. She struggled with the ball-topped long gear shifter between her legs, grinding the gears for several seconds before she was able to push it into first. As she’d been taught, she slowly lifted her left leg, while simultaneously slowly pushing on the gas pedal with her right foot. A hard jerk moved the tractor forward, nearly unseating her, and caused the tractor to sputter as if it might die, so she jerked up the hand gear which sent her flying forward, out of the barn, and into the heavily falling snow. She pushed the hand gear back close to an idle so the tractor slowed and moved at a snail’s pace towards the snow-covered gravel lane.

  Exhaling a shaky breath she navigated as best she could to stay on the driveway, relieved she didn’t have to worry about ditches on either side since Mr. Hobbs from up the road had graveled and graded the driveway for her two years earlier. The quarter of a mile driveway took several minutes to traverse, but as she rounded the last curve her heart nearly stopped.

  With its wheels up in the air, and the truck on its back much like Mr. Tompkins waiting to get his tummy rubbed, her white pickup laid where her mail box should have been. Forcing herself to remain calm, though her insides were a jittering mass of nerves, Christina maneuvered the tractor next to the truck before knocking it out of gear, putting on the footbrake, and jumping down to see if Jack was still inside the cab. It was both a relief and frightening to see him struggling to get out of the seatbelt with blood dripping from his upside-down head.

  “Hold on! I’m coming.”

  Christina returned to the tractor, opened the built-in toolbox and pulled out a hammer and hunting knife. She was glad Johnny’s things were still there just as he’d left them, since she needed them to release Jack from his prison. She returned to the truck, going to the passenger side, and kneeling to peer in.

  She sent Jack an encouraging smile. “Turn our head the other way,” she shouted, hoping he could hear her over the thick glass and howling wind.

  As soon as his head was turned, she hit the glass hard, but barely shattered it. She drew back and hit it again, harder, and made a little more progress. With one last hard hit, she finally cracked it enough she could tap at the tempered material until she broke through the plastic that held it all together.

  With the hunting knife clamped between her teeth, she crawled in, careful not to cut herself. She took it from her mouth, looked him over, and smiled. “Hi, stranger.”

  Jack chuckled. “Sorry ‘bout your truck, babe. Damned black ice.”

  She started sawing at the seatbelt. “Hold on to something so you don’t hit your head when I cut through.”

  Jack held tight to the steering wheel. “I already did.”

  Christina continued to saw, wishing she’d brought a sharper knife. “I can see that. Are you okay?”

  With a plop Jack came down, his head hitting the metal cab, his body folding over like a rag dolls so that his butt and the back of his legs were all she saw. She grabbed at his shoulders as he wiggled, until they had her backing out and him sliding out onto the cold snow.

  Exhausted, she helped him sit up, pulled the scarf from around her mouth and neck, and wrapped it around the wound that had reopened at the back of his head. “Come on, let’s get you to the house.”

  “Wait!” Jack winced, then pointed back into the cab. “Don’t forget the condoms.”

  It took half an hour to get back to the house, get Jack inside, then have to fight with him until she allowed him to deliver
the tractor to the barn. She waited for him, afraid the cut to the back of his head might be serious. But he’d waved it off, telling her to wait in the house, as soon as he got back he had something important to tell her.

  Anticipation had her standing at the chilly front window, awaiting his return. She bit her lip, wondering if he’d decided to propose formally. She wouldn’t be averse to the idea. Not at all.

  She turned to smile at him when he came in, took his boots off at the door, then smiled at her. “Want to take a hot shower with me?”

  Though the question threw her, Christina’s body reacted and she was walking across the room to meet him. She kissed him long and hard, enjoying the hard male length of him against her. “Will you scrub my back?”

  Laughter lit his eyes. “I’ll scrub your everything.”

  Christina bit his bottom lip, holding it just long enough to make him growl. “What about your head?”

  He rubbed himself against her. “You can do anything you want with my head.”

  She swatted at him. “I meant the cut on your head!”

  Jack laughed. “It’s a little sore, but fine. I’ll let you play nurse later if you want. Right now I have other things aching more.”

  Since she was in the same condition, she pulled him toward the small bathroom. She’d never taken a shower with a man and the small claw-foot tub would probably make it awkward, but she was willing to try anything with him.

  They stripped, leaving a trail of clothing across the living room, down the hall, and on the tiny tiles of the bathroom’s floor. Christina reached in and turned on the water, adjusting it as she always did before stepping in.

  Within seconds Jack had her in with him, had taken possession of her mouth, and had his hands busy sloshing the water all over her. Her nipples ached, her center throbbed with anticipation of the expected pleasure Jack always brought her. She tore her lips from his, clamping her teeth onto his shoulder, making him jerk against her when she bit too hard.

  “My turn.” Jack lifted her, placing her feet on opposite sides of the white tub, ignoring the rip of the old white curtain. He took a nipple into his mouth as one hand anchored her back, and the other moved so he could slip a couple of fingers into her. Her head fell back as the water hit her neck and ran rivers down her chest where Jack suckled and drank from her body.

  The pressure she had come to crave from his manipulating touch was building with swift intensity, making her whimper as she tried to fight allowing it to happen too soon. She wanted to build a little control, as her body was lost to her when she was this close to shattering. It wasn’t that she minded, but she wanted to prolong the agony that was almost as delicious as the explosion. A cry of anguish ripped from her throat when he hit the spot that took the strength from her knees.

  “Let it go, baby. I’ve got you. Just let it go.”

  Christina’s legs buckled at his plea and Jack pulled her to him, allowing her to slide down his body and anchor herself on his shaft. He took the two steps that had her back against the tiled wall, his hands at her thighs, opening her wider, then he reached back to lock her ankles at his back. He grasped her buttocks and went to work, his manhood so engorged he was nearly tearing her apart.

  Her cries mixed with his growls. Her body bowed tight, making her arch into him as a scream rent her throat, and a cry of pure animal fury burst from his. She rode the climax as he continued to stoke and fill her, until he slowly lowered her to her feet.

  She leaned into his hard, wet chest, grateful for his strength as she had none of her own. “I’m not sure I can walk,” she said, breathing so hard she could barely get the words out.

  Jack chuckled and leaned into her. “Me either. But let’s try. Only about ten steps to the bed.”

  They stumbled their way to her bed, and fell in. Christina curled into him, snuggling against his side. Just as she slid into sleep, it hit her. “We forgot to use a condom again.”

  The light snoring at her side was Jack’s answer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Christina awoke to the aroma of frying bacon and strong coffee, her most favorite combination in the world. She stretched and smiled to herself as little tugs of pain reminded her of how incredible a lover Jack was. He entered the room carrying a tray stacked with pancakes and bacon, and had a mug of what she was certain was coffee along with a small glass of orange juice. She sat up, placed pillows at her back, and allowed him to set the tray over her legs.

  He leaned over the tray, giving her the most gentle kiss. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

  Christina’s eyes instantly filled as she pulled him back for a second kiss. “Merry Christmas to you.”

  He grinned and sat down at her side. “I have something to tell you.”

  Christina bit her lips as she waited. Was this the proposal she’d been hoping for?

  Jack took a deep breath. “My name is Jack.”

  Christina laughed. “I know.”

  He shook his head. “No. I mean really. My name is Jack. Jack Beck.”

  Christina sat up straighter. “You remember?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I think maybe the accident last night somehow brought it all back.”

  “Tell me. Tell me about Jack Beck.”

  He smiled. “I’m not married.”

  “Good.”

  “And I have my own company. Or I did. I need to find out what happened to my equipment when I fell off a utility pole back at Thanksgiving.”

  Christina could only stare at him, happy for him yet frightened. Now that he no longer needed her, would he still want her?

  “Don’t you get it, Chris? I’m back. And if your offer of marriage still stands, I’d very much like to make you mine… until we die.”

  Christina couldn’t get the tray off her lap quickly enough, but somehow managed to get it to the floor without making a mess. She was in his arms, kissing him all over, thrilled that Lisa had indeed given her the best Christmas present she could have ever hoped for.

  “Hello! We made it! Chris? Are you here?”

  Christina jerked back, startled to hear the voice of her mother-in-law. Stunned to see the first excited, then clearly surprised face of her daughter as Lisa ran into the room.

  Jack quickly stood as she grabbed the sheet close, holding it tight against her naked body. Lisa halted in the doorway, looking from Jack to her and back again. Margaret was there next, her big smile going slack, her eyes looking from Christina to Jack, then she frowned as she looked at him harder. Her legs gave, but Jack caught her before she hit the floor.

  Christina found her voice. “Lisa, honey, go get Grammy a cold, wet washcloth.”

  Lisa looked at her a second longer before turning to leave. Christina rose and grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, pulling it on and tying it quickly. Lisa was there in the next second, tentatively handing the wet terry cloth to Jack. She turned to Christina as her face split into a smile. “Merry Christmas, Mommy. I told you I was gonna get a miracle.”

  Christina hugged her close, kissing her chubby cheeks. “Yes, you did, Baby. I’m so glad you’re home.” She glanced at Margaret as she was coming to in Jack’s arms.

  “Is it you?”

  Christina would have laughed at the question as it mimicked Betty Jo’s at the Piggly Wiggly, but her sweet friend’s reaction was anything but funny. She released Lisa with a kiss to her forehead and approached Margaret. “No. His name is Jack, Margaret. Jack Beck.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “It is you. Oh my God—I never thought—I never dared to hope to see you again.”

  Tears rolling down her own cheeks as Christina was afraid the similarities between Jack and Margaret’s late son were too much for her mind to handle. “No, Margaret. Please listen to me. He isn’t Johnny. Johnny is gone.”

  Margaret looked at her then, noticing the robe. Her brows rose as a smile bloomed across her face. “I know he isn’t Johnny, Chris. But he is my son.”

  Christina slid a glance to Jack, ama
zed to find him smiling at Margaret. “Jack, tell her who you are.”

  He turned to Christina and held his hand out. She took it, allowing him to pull her closer to them both. “You’re my biological mother?” he asked, looking at the older woman.

  Christina turned to him swiftly. “What?”

  “I was adopted at birth.” Jack squeezed her hand then turned back to her mother-in-law. “You were the sixteen year old girl who had to give me up?”

  Christina was too stunned to move as Margaret nodded.

  “I was. My father was a minister. His father was a minister. We were an embarrassment to them both.” She sent Christina a small smile before giving her attention to Jack. “I loved that boy so much, but they made me go to a home until you were born. The only way I was allowed to go back home was to give you up. I was barely sixteen. I hated my parents for a long time, but I had nowhere else to go except back to my house. Jimmy and I married the day I turned eighteen. I was pregnant again immediately, and nine months later Johnny was born. But I never stopped thinking of you.”

  “I knew about you. My parents told me the whole story, except your name and where you lived. They didn’t want me to think you gave me up because I wasn’t loved.”

  Tears streamed down Margaret’s face, unchecked. “Then they were the answer to my prayers. Please forgive me.”

  Jack took her into his arms and held her close. “There isn’t anything to forgive. I had a great childhood. I was loved and adored. It broke me for a while when my parents died in an accident that should have never happened, but they taught me that when life pushes you, you push on.” He smiled at Christina. “This is the nicest Christmas present I could ever have.”

  Lisa looked from one adult to the other. “Well, did Santa come, or didn’t he?”

  Within minutes they were in front of the tree, Lisa lost in the wonder of her new bike, helmet, knee and elbow pads Christina would insist she wear. She eventually moved on to a set of three new dolls, and all the paraphernalia a little girl would need to take care of them. Margaret couldn’t take her eyes off Jack, and Christina had to bank her own need to be near him and touch him, and hoped Margaret would understand that she was now in love with the other son.