Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge Page 3

  Dexter O'Reilly didn't even bother to acknowledge her thanks but simply turned to the seat belt next, and with a quick touch of a button, she was free of that restriction as well. As she fell hard onto the steering wheel, however, she was knocked all at once from her short panic attack, and peevishly thought a warning would have been nice.

  Rubbing her shoulder, she looked over at her rescuer, and remembered who he was. Nice, she sincerely doubted, was not in his vocabulary.

  “We're going to have to stay the night.” It was simply stated, not a trace of emotion.

  “What?” Laura's hand froze. “You're kidding, right, because I don’t think I can do that if I don't have to.”

  “I don't kid.” Which hardly surprised her. “And, yes, you do have to.”

  “But somebody is sure to drive by and see our tracks in the snow.”

  “The snow has started to fall again, they will be completely covered soon if not already.”

  “What about your car? Somebody is bound to see it parked alongside the road and realize you're in danger.”

  He shook his head, the smallest hint of irritation creeping into his face. “No. No one will, because you see, you used a road not used during the winter months.”

  Laura's face went pale. In a small voice, she muttered, “The fork in the road. I should have turned right, not left.”

  He simply nodded. “And there is no way I will be able to get us up the ravine in the dark. It would be like going blindfold.”

  “But we can’t stay down here. We’ll freeze to death.” Her eyes grew with alarm, hysteria beginning to bubble back to life once more, as she reached out and clutched his coat lapels in earnest.

  He studied her distraught face and was annoyed by that same emotion which had surfaced earlier with his mother. Perturbed, he thrust her hands away. “We have the shelter of the vehicle, our coats and each other if need be. Do you have an emergency box in the hatch?”

  She shook her head, her voice still unsteady as she replied, “No, but there’s a blanket on the back seat.”

  The panic in her eyes had only eased slightly. But it was really in the revealing tremble of her bottom lip that gave her away. It wouldn’t stop quivering fiercely as if she were sitting in a meat cooler, which wasn’t far from how it felt. He wouldn’t admit it, but her concerns were probably warranted. It was horribly cold and the broken window only made it even worse. His eyes shifted back to her face and noticed her chin was beginning to join her bottom lip in trembles. She didn’t even attempt to control her fears.

  He sighed, turning away. “I'm going to try and get some sleep. The sooner morning arrives, the better. I suggest you do the same.”

  He threw himself into the back seat and stretched his taut muscles on the cramped bench. Retrieving the blanket she mentioned, he tossed it to her in the front seat. She snatched it but continued to stare at him with her eyes wide and distressed. That foreign emotion nagged at him again. He hated any show of emotion and this woman certainly produced a lot of them and had no qualms openly showcasing them. The quicker he got out of there, the better. He was beginning to regret his decision to come down the ravine. Aggravated, he squelched the little voice that told him otherwise.

  Laura turned away at last, huddling deep into the front seat, pulling the blanket around her and drawing her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she silently shivered, listening to the breathing of her rescuer. She was frightfully cold and horrid visions of dying in her sleep had her sitting with her eyes wide open in the front compartment of the vehicle.

  She had no idea how long she sat there. So many thoughts began running through her head; she lost track of time. Here she was on Christmas Eve, virtually on the edge of her deathbed, and she had the Grinch himself as her hero. Though the evening could have ended horrifically different, she could not shake the feel of self-pity.

  It was her first Christmas alone. She wanted so badly for everything to go just right. But how could anything go right when everything was so wrong.

  She should have been at home with her parent celebrating the festive season. She should never have had to face spending the holiday alone. And she most certainly should never have found herself on death’s door. But she had. And the feeling left her completely frightened and vulnerable.

  Tears rolled unchecked down her cold cheeks. The desire to have her father there beside her was so great she let out a tiny sob. It was Christmas Eve and she was alone. She feared this greatly. Tried to prevent it, but alas the solitary loneliness of her world could not be evaded.

  She raised her eyes to the twinkling stars. They winked at her and she felt as if she was being mocked. Try and change the course of the stars and only disaster lay in your path. She caught sight of the Christmas star and uttered in sorrow. What I would wish for, you could never grant, she thought, casting her eyes away instead.

  She shivered, realizing the open window was leaving her numb with cold. Shaking herself out of yet another spasm of self-pity, she pulled her blanket closer and rubbed her nearly naked legs, trying to put some stimulation back in them.

  Shivering horribly in the front seat, she glanced behind to her rescuer. He was huddled into the warm tweed coat he wore, curled up in the small confinement of the back seat. His large body appeared cramped and uncomfortable, yet his breathing indicated he had fallen asleep. She momentarily marveled at his ability to act calm under such horrific circumstances. Then she remembered he wasn’t the one who actually hurdled over Suicide Point.

  At last she was relieved to feel sleep creep into her bones. She allowed her eyelids to droop until at last exhaustion took over and darkness closed in.

  In her nightmare she is falling. Down, down into a black abyss. She is screaming, her arms and legs flaring. No one is there to hear her cries. She is alone. Fear is coursing her veins at a swift pace. And then. . . .

  Her eyes flew open. Laura stared frozen up at the bleak ceiling of her car. A startling fear so intense had a tight grasp on her heart. She was incapable of moving. Gradually, her chest began to rise and fall as reality slowly penetrated her senses. I'm still alive, she acknowledged to herself with relief. Reaching over to the back seat, she touched another human arm. And, thank goodness, not alone.

  Her hand stilled. I'm not alone, she repeated to herself. The acknowledgement startled her. Rolling over, she looked down at him. He was still asleep. Except for the rising of his chest, he lay completely still. The man was as cold and rough as the night around her, and yet made of flesh and bone as any other human.

  A certain promise echoed in her brain. “You won't be alone.” Her father kept his promise, even tonight when the impossible seemed unlikely. He brought her someone to share this first Christmas without him. She actually smiled. True, he was no Santa Claus, but he was her very own Scrooge.

  Below her, the man of her thoughts released a sudden and violent shiver. The cold had finally crept beneath his warm tweed coat, reminding Laura how terribly cold she was also. Without hesitating, she crawled over the back seat and lied next to him, pulling her blanket over them both as she did. She couldn’t bear the cold any longer, desperately needing the warmth of another human being.

  He let out a groan as her weight nudged him accidently in the side. Still partially asleep, he gruffly mumbled something incoherent.

  She raised her chin and whispered, “It’s gotten very cold.”

  He grumbled again, shifting slightly to allow her body a more comfortable fit against his, and then went back to sleep. Laura smiled to herself as she rested her cheek against his chest and felt his shivers subside. At that moment, she felt an overwhelming sense of safety and warmth, thanks partly to the cold man beneath her.

  CHAPTER 2

  She was woken the following morning by a rough voice somewhere above her head. “Do you mind getting off me?”

  She was awake in a flash. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled embarrassed.

  Laura attempted, unsuccessfully, t
o straighten herself from the intimidating closeness of his large form. Suddenly, all awareness of this man as being of the opposite sex had her blushing hotly.

  In her struggles, her knee slipped between his legs causing her thigh to rub against his male form. Immediately, her breast responded instinctively. Beneath her winter coat, under the smooth silk of her evening dress, her nipples hardened against the soft material.

  Below her, Dexter's mouth set in a hard grim line as the rest of his body went completely rigid. Laura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this man, and as far away as possible.

  Her attempts, however, proved to be useless. The vehicle's resting position left her movements clumsy. She couldn't seem to get a grip in order to extricate herself from his disturbing body.

  At last, mortified, she had no alternative but to ask for help. “Would you mind lifting me slightly so I can get my balance?”

  Throughout her struggles he remained silent, his body stiff and his face set in a dark foreboding stillness. Now, he stared unsmiling up at her. “Why did you come back here in the first place?”

  “You were shivering,” she uttered defenseless.

  “So?” He snapped.

  “Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.”

  Sighing heavily, he placed two large hands around her tiny waist and firmly lifted her to one side. Then in one swift motion he sat up, separating the distance between them.

  She muttered thanks and received no response. Instead he looked out the window surveying their predicament. The sun had come up and shone its brilliant light over the earth. The daylight provided a clear view of their location. It was much worse than he feared.

  Not more than three feet away, the edge of the gorge dropped off to the rocky ravine far below. Laura shivered from the realization. Dexter's expression only sharpened into a harsh grimace.

  “Let's go.”

  “I can't.” All of a sudden she froze, her fear from the night before, resurfaced.

  “What do you mean you can't?”

  She turned a frightened face from the gorge to him and repeated, “I-I mean, I can't.”

  Still scowling he stared at her, then, unexpectedly, the smallest flicker of understanding crossed his features before he immediately turned away, suppressing the look. “If you plan on getting off this ledge I suggest you ignore your childlike fears and get your—”

  “Childlike!” If he had slapped her, she couldn’t have felt more anger swiftly replace her fear. “How dare you! Just because you are some fearless barbarian willing to come down this gorge—”

  “Barbarian, possibly.” He gave her. “Fearless, no. Now move it, or be left behind.”

  Her eyes widened in shock. He wouldn’t dare! Then, not waiting to see if he was serious, she sprung over the front seat intent for the open window. However, she had moved too quickly, causing the car to rock precariously in its unusual resting spot between the two trees. Immediately, she froze and glanced behind to Dexter. Their eyes locked as they waited a heart stopping moment for the car to settle. When the rocking at last eased, he visibly relaxed and nodded to the window. “Let’s go.”

  Nodding, she began again, crawling across the front seats toward the open window. She had just managed to plant her knee over the shift gear when she heard Dexter shout, “Get out, now?”

  He vaulted the front seat, barking and shoving at her backside propelling her non-too-politely out the window. “The car's moving! Move it!”

  With a forceful heave, he shoved her out the window. Fear gripped Laura once more and caused her movements to falter half way through the window.

  Enough for Dexter to shout at her. “Move, Laura, now!”

  Then she felt his hands on her backside and her body hurled carelessly into the snow outside. She turned just as Dexter came flying toward her; the vehicle behind him groaning as it completed the 180-degree somersault to its demise far below.

  She sat stunned staring after it, realizing what happened could have easily befallen them last night as they slept. An eerie chill swept up her spine. He noticed her shivers. “I sure hope you have insurance on that thing.”

  She looked at him. What a stupid thing to say. A stupid, uncaring, and unemotional thing to say. Here she sat, convinced she was traumatized for life, and all he cared about was if she had insurance or not.

  “I'm fine thank you.” The sharp edge in her voice surprised her.

  “Then let's go.” He got to his feet.

  Reluctantly she followed, battling a weary unease in the pit of her stomach. Lifting her chin she looked up the snowy slope—and up, and up. Before her was the most dreadful climb to safety. Her breath caught in the hollow of her chest as she felt her stomach heave then plummet to the bottom of her feet.

  Glancing down, it was only then that she realized she was minus shoes. It had been the fear coursing through her veins, which had her totally disregarding the numbing sensation taking over her toes. They were already beginning to turn a faint purple-blue after being exposed all night long, and were now well on their way to frostbite she was sure.

  She looked up at her rescuer who had already began the tedious ascent. There was no way she would complain. What if he followed through with his threat to leave her behind? Biting down on the pain, she forced herself to follow him. Every step felt as if a thousand prickly thorns pierced her delicate skin. But, thankfully, the numbing sensation eventually overtook and in doing so withheld the freezing temperature of the snow below.

  Aggravated, he turned back. “What's taking you so long?”

  She attempted to move her feet faster but, instead, stumbled over their limp condition grasping a tree limb as she did. Fear gripped her as she looked over her shoulder and down the steep slope below. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of watching her fall to her death. If it took her all day, she would make it up the gorge and at her own pace.

  “Go ahead,” she told him with forced confidence, which truthfully couldn’t have fooled even her. “I'm going to take it slow.”

  From her distance she could see him frown, then unexpectedly, retrace his steps toward her. She waited until he reached her side. His face was a hard rock of suppressed irritation, but the annoyance in his voice was very evident. “If you needed help, why didn't you just ask for it?”

  “Because I'm perfectly fine. And, besides, I didn't think—”

  She was rudely interrupted when he suddenly roared, “Where the devil are your shoes?”

  Shifting uncomfortably on her frozen feet, she said, “In the car.”

  He looked absolutely thunderous. “Why the hell didn't you tell me?”

  “Because.” Her voice faltered. “I thought you might leave me behind.”

  The storm etched furiously across his ruggedly good looks, began to unexpectedly turn a faint pink. With a jerk he turned quickly away, dropping down on the nearest bolder and began pulling off his boots.

  Laura's eyes widened in shock. “I can't take your boots!”

  “I wasn’t giving them to you.” He snapped back, shooting her an irritated glance, then looked away to add more subduedly, “They are far too big for you. My socks should help keep your feet warm until we get to the top.” At her look of contention, he said, “My own feet will be perfectly warm in my boots.”

  “I wasn't going to say that.” Stubbornly, she stood her ground. “I'm quite fine and don't need your socks or your assistance—”

  He sprung at her. “You ignorant fool! You would rather lose your toes to frostbite than accept my help?”

  The unexpected sight of his temper ignited a tiny flame of fear in her. “I-I didn't say that—”

  “Come here!” He grabbed her non-too-carefully and thrust her on to the bolder he earlier occupied. Then, angrily, he reached for her feet and raised them up for inspection and cursed under his breath. Laura didn’t have to hear the words to know they were aimed at her.

  Without warning he began to vigorously r
ub her feet until at last the ugly purplish hue began to fade, replaced by a warm pink flush. That task completed, he reached for his discarded socks and proceeded to pull them over her tiny feet. They were sizes far too large but the sudden warmth they provided was heaven sent.

  Laura raised her eyes and looked at him. “Thank you. That feels much better.”

  He didn't say a word. Instead he got to his feet, bent down, then contemptuously swung her into his arms.

  Taken aback, Laura instinctively grasped his neck. It took a full five seconds before she thought to argue. “This is not necessary—”

  “Quiet.” He looked straight ahead, his face completely blank, except for the revealing taut lines around his mouth as he carefully scaled the slope before him. With the added burden of a woman in his arms.

  Chafed, she turned her eyes away wondering what she had done to make him so angry. Her view fell upon the rocky wall of the gorge and like a jolt from her nightmare, she was faced with the reality of the situation. Impulsively, she clutched Dexter tighter and sucked in a cowardly gasp.

  “Shouldn't have looked away.” His voice was oddly calm as he rebuked her. “You know what they say, never look down.”

  Laura turned back to him, momentarily struck dumb from the lack of scorn in his voice. Always full of anger, she didn't think it could be healthy. She wondered what made him that way and if he had always been so full of antagonism. With surprising assuredness, she knew he hadn't.

  “I'm surprised you remembered my name.”

  He glanced at her, briefly frowning. “Why wouldn't I. Mother introduced us.”

  “But I didn't honestly think you took note.”

  Dexter didn't like that comment. More reason because it was true. He never, ever, took note of people let alone their names, unless of course they were useful to him or business. Certainly not a little someone, at a function of no concern, in a room full of nobodies.