Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge (4 page)

BOOK: Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge
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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, to
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 rub
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—”

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