Monkey Wrench (19 page)

“Maybe,” Susannah replied, though she declined to explain what. Her feelings hadn't changed toward Joe, but she felt as if they'd taken an exciting step.

“I'm going to go hunt for Christmas trees with Joe this afternoon,” Susannah said. “He needs one for himself and one for Worthington House. Shall we look for one for you? Or would you rather pick it out yourself?”

Rose waved her fork. “I trust your judgment, Suzie.”

“I'll be happy to take you tomorrow if you'd rather—”

“Nonsense, dear. I'd rather stay at home, I think. Besides, looking for three trees today will keep you out late. Why, maybe you'll even get stuck in a snowdrift with the man!”

“Whose side are you on?” Susannah demanded on a laugh. “Yours, darling. Definitely yours.”

So at four o'clock that afternoon, Susannah dug into a cedar closet and found an old pink parka for herself—obviously an end-of-the-season bargain she hadn't been able to pass up, for it was trimmed in white fake fur and sported a dancing penguin on one sleeve. In the same closet, she also found a pair of hiking boots she had left at her grandmother's house, since hiking in Milwaukee usually amounted to getting to the nearest bus stop. She tucked her hair into a tasseled ski cap.

“Are you sure you want me to go out?” she asked her
grandmother as she laced the boots. “If you'd rather not be alone today...”

“I won't be alone. Mrs. Dahlstrom's coming back,” Rose said. “She'll be here if I start feeling a little...”

Susannah looked up. “Are you all right?”

“Of course!” Rose said at once, wiping the guilty expression off her face. “Go have fun with Joe and let me finish making my telephone calls about the party.”

“Granny Rose...”

“Don't worry about me, darling. Mrs. Dahlstrom will be here in half an hour. There's Joe's truck. Run along.”

Susannah tried to resist, but her grandmother practically pushed her out the door. Susannah gave up protesting and went down the sidewalk to meet Joe as he pulled up against the curb.

He leaned across the seat and popped the door open without getting out. “Is that you, Miss Suzie? Or an elf escaped from the North Pole?”

A blast of warm air from his heater struck Susannah as she climbed in beside him and closed the door. “Be a good boy, Mr. Santori, or I'll see that Santa leaves you a stick and a lump of coal this Christmas.”

“You'll know if I've been naughty or nice?”

“I'm sure I'll be the
first
to know, as a matter of fact.”

He laughed in that wonderful musical voice of his. Then he put the truck in gear and drove off with her.

S
USANNAH'S EARLIEST
memory of the Vaughn farm was from the Christmas before her father died, when her parents had taken her there for a sleigh ride.

“I must have been five or six,” she told Joe. “The sleigh belonged to my great-grandparents, and we keep it at the Vaughn farm. They were friends of my parents, and they still let us use a horse once in a while.”

The Vaughn family had suffered the same economic hardships as other farmers in the area, with the result that they'd sold their cattle and leased most of their land to a large farm cooperative. At Christmastime, though, they opened a shop in the old dairy store, and sold wreaths, garlands and homemade decorations and treats. Hot cider was bubbling on the potbellied stove, filling the shop with a crisp, tangy scent. The harness bells hanging on the door gave a cheery jingle when Joe and Susannah entered.

The Vaughns made a fuss over Susannah's return to Tyler, plying them with cups of cider, then gave Joe permission to go hunting for Christmas trees up in the grove.

“Take the sleigh,” Mr. Vaughn insisted. “Bessie won't give you any trouble, Suzie. You're old friends.”

Bessie was the same old pinto mare Susannah knew so well. Even in recent years, she and Granny Rose had kept up the family tradition of driving the old sleigh to church every Christmas morning. The mare dozed outside the shop's back door, harnessed to a gleaming old red sleigh that had been draped in holly and sported a plaid blanket on the front seat. Bessie cocked her spotted head to look through her blinkers
and whickered softly when Joe and Susannah came out of the shop.

After patting the horse's neck, Susannah climbed into the sleigh without hesitation, telling Joe the story of driving the sleigh every Christmas. “It's been a family tradition since Granny Rose was a little girl.”

“I'm from Chicago,” Joe protested, upon being introduced to Bessie by the laughing proprietor. “The only horses I knew were painted ones on carousels.”

“There's nothing to it,” Susannah said with a laugh. “I'll drive, if you like. Or would you like me to teach you?”

“You drive.” Joe laid his saw in the back seat and stepped warily into the sleigh.

He sat down and began to spread the blanket over their knees, while Susannah gathered up the reins and released the brake. Mrs. Vaughn rushed outside and pressed a thermos of hot cider into Joe's free hand. Then Joe settled back with the cider in one hand and his other arm flung over the seat behind Susannah, looking like the king of all he surveyed.

“I like this,” he said, as Susannah clucked to Bessie and the sleigh started off with a jerk. With the wind in his face, he declared, “Over the river and through the wood, Miss Suzie! With luck, maybe we'll get lost together.”

“Bessie will find her way back.”

“She's a horse, not a homing pigeon!”

Susannah drove the horse cautiously over a little stone bridge past the barn. Bessie slowed down at the barn door, but when Susannah chirped, the mare picked up her feet obediently and kept going, kicking up snow as she trotted along the path beside the paddock fence.

The chill in the air nipped at Susannah's cheeks, and her lungs tingled with the cold. The steady thud of Bessie's hooves created a rhythm that soon had Joe humming “Jingle Bells.”

Since Susannah had not been hunting for Christmas trees for many years, she deferred to Joe's opinion on where they'd find the best selection. He directed her through a pasture and
up the slope to a grove of pines, then west into a deeper section of the forest.

“Where are we going?” Susannah asked suspiciously as they passed several likely-looking evergreens. “Are you trying to be alone with me?”

“That, too,” he said with a grin. “But the best trees are up ahead. Here, turn into that clearing.”

Bessie picked her way carefully through the snow and finally came to a stop of her own accord, in the middle of a quiet clearing.

“Wait,” said Joe, putting a restraining hand on Susannah's arm to prevent her from driving onward. “Just listen a minute.”

Around them, the tall trees whispered softly, and the air was filled with large, immaculate snowflakes that drifted down from the sky so slowly they seemed loath to touch the ground. The afternoon light had begun to wane, and for a moment the sun was caught between the bare branches of a majestic oak. The sheen of crystalline light on the snow-covered ground gleamed like a fairy landscape.

“Hear it?” Joe whispered.

Susannah listened acutely and finally heard distant church bells ringing in Tyler.

Until that moment, Susannah had been enjoying the brisk air, but suddenly she felt the comforting warmth of Joe's body next to hers. It drew her inexorably until she realized she had nestled her thigh snugly against his.

“Makes you glad to be alive, doesn't it?” Joe murmured.

“It's beautiful,” Susannah breathed.

“Only one thing missing.”

“What's that?”

He turned her face toward his by placing his forefinger beneath Susannah's chin, a light yet commanding touch that she dared not disobey. Joe's gaze was alive with warmth, and a single lock of his dark hair curled temptingly over his forehead. Susannah wanted to touch it with her fingertips, but in another heartbeat, Joe had leaned closer and kissed her. He
tasted tangy and delicious, and he murmured something against her lips. But Susannah was too lost in the quick sensations that filled her to hear. A hot twist of excitement began deep inside, and the sudden acceleration of her pulse rendered her breathless. Joe's body heat was wonderful, and the strength in his arms gave her the feeling that they could recline there for days before he'd get tired. His mouth was firm and sensual, and it tantalized Susannah until her mind was completely blank.

With a gentle nudge, Joe parted her lips, and his tongue traced a slow swipe across her lower teeth. Then he gradually lessened the contact until their mouths were barely clinging, and Susannah shivered with pleasure.

When it was over, she found herself swimming in the dark, turbulent depths of his gaze. “You were right,” she said when she could speak. “That was the only thing missing.”

Then Bessie snorted and shook her head violently, filling the air with a protest of harness bells. With a laugh, Joe said, “Bessie says we've got miles to go before we sleep, Miss Suzie, so I guess we'd better get to work.”

Reluctantly, Susannah slid out of his embrace.

Joe leaped lightly from the sleigh and pulled his saw from the back seat. With care, Susannah unlooped the long reins and tied them fast around a stout tree. Bessie put her nose down into the snow and blew gustily to uncover a few blades of dried grass. She nibbled them daintily and watched the humans from behind her blinkers.

Setting off together on foot through the snow, Susannah and Joe began to argue over the merits of the perfect Christmas tree. Joe wanted a round, sturdy tree to go into his front bay window, whereas Susannah preferred a tall, slim tree that would fit in the corner of her grandmother's parlor. Within half an hour, they each found the ideal tree for their own homes, and Joe was gracious about cutting both. They dragged the trees through the snow back to the sleigh, and Joe loaded them into the back seat one after the other.

“Now I need one for Worthington House,” he said, dusting
pine needles off his trousers. “I want to knock some of those old folks off their roller skates with the biggest, prettiest tree I can find. You have to help me.”

“We'll never agree!” Susannah protested on a laugh. “It'll be dark soon, and we'll have to go home empty-handed.”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the woods again, shouting, “Never say never, Miss Suzie! We'll find the perfect tree if it takes all night! Weeks from now, they may find our frozen bodies in the snow....”

“I'm not freezing to death over a Christmas tree! We'll come back tomorrow if we have to. I'm too old to be gallivanting—”

“You can't use your age as an excuse. There's magic in the air tonight, can't you feel it? Come on, Miss Suzie!”

She laughed and let him lead her into the snowy forest. As dusk gathered in the trees, they hiked farther and farther from the sleigh, but Susannah trusted Joe and was caught up in the excitement of the moment. They walked on and on, circling one tree after another, flushing birds from the underbrush and leaving a trail of footprints behind them.

Finally the woods ended, and they burst out onto a hilltop overlooking the lake. Susannah gasped. The panorama that spread out from their feet was breathtaking, a scene worthy of a picture postcard. The dark lake gleamed in the fading light as if lit from within. The snow-covered banks crept down to the water's edge and turned to a thin coating of ice.

On the opposite hillside Susannah could see the rooftop and gables of Timberlake, the lodge she had visited just that morning. Below it lay the boathouse. A wisp of smoke curled from the chimney of that building, and a warm light glowed in the windows. Susannah knew that Liza and her new husband were snug in their new home, building their life together and planning a family.

“It's beautiful here,” she whispered.

Behind her, Joe said, “Magnificent.”

He pulled her against his body, and they stood there for a long moment, drinking in the view and marveling at the
beauty of the landscape. Susannah leaned against Joe, her head resting against his chest so that she almost imagined she could feel his heart beating against her hair. His arms were gentle around her, and his hands unconsciously caressed her arms to warm them.

“Come on,” he said in her ear. “Let's go back.”

“We haven't found your tree yet.”

“You're shivering. You must be cold.”

“I've never felt warmer.”

But she turned away and reached for Joe's hand with her own. They had turned to walk back to the sleigh when suddenly they stopped in their tracks, simultaneously struck by the sight of a perfectly symmetrical pine tree standing amid the snowy drifts.

“That's it,” said Susannah.

“I almost hate to cut it.”

She tightened her grip on his hand and smiled up at Joe. “Then we won't. Next year it will still be here. We'll come and visit.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Susannah felt her heart give a jerk of surprise. How odd! She had actually spoken about the future—a future together with Joe. She blinked in astonishment, mouth open.

Joe didn't say a word, but he smiled at Susannah. He didn't make a joke or pretend not to understand, but accepted her words as the truth. He kissed her. His mouth was delightfully sure on hers, and his hands tightened on her body. She let herself be kissed, too surprised to respond in kind. Then Joe released her gently.

“You're right,” he said. “That tree's too special to cut.”

They walked silently back to the sleigh and happened upon a tall, straight tree near the clearing, one that Susannah, still shaken by the idea her subconscious had produced, declared ideal for Worthington House. Joe clambered through the snow and cut the tree down speedily. Each grabbing a lower branch, they dragged the huge tree to the sleigh, and Joe hoisted it on top of the others.