One Snowy Night Before Christmas (15 page)

“I’ll be quite fine.” He shifted in the seat and reached for
the handle, and instinctively Jessie hit the brakes.

“Hey, watch it. You’re going to get yourself killed!”

The instant she stopped the old man jumped out. He paused in
the doorway, looking up at her with that jolly smile. Damn, he really did look
like Santa. He probably duped hundreds of gullible people every year.

“Jessie, it has been a pleasure knowing you this Christmas.
They’re going to get better from here on out, I promise.”

“Am I’m supposed to believe that’s your magic Christmas
present to me?”

“Of course not!” He laughed and his whole body jiggled. “Tom
was my Christmas present to you.” He started to shut the door, but pulled it
open again. “And I’ve got a little stocking stuffer for you as well. Merry
Christmas, Jessie!”

She opened her mouth, but he slammed the door before she
could respond. She glimpsed the top of his fuzzy red cap as he trudged over the
embankment and set off into the woods.

“Dammit! For all the good sense—” She had to go after him.
His goofiness aside, he was really going to get himself into trouble. No matter
how much she resented his playing “Santa,” she couldn’t let him die out here.

Jessie turned off the engine and grabbed her thick gloves
off the seat beside her. “A perfectly warm cab and he prefers to go
gallivanting through the freaking frozen wilderness.”

She jumped out and shut the door. A frigid gust buffeted
her, making Jessie toss her scarf around her neck to cover her chin. The road
was slippery and she nearly fell. She picked her way around the front of the
truck like a child on ice skates for the first time.

The old man’s footsteps cut deep holes in the snow bank.
Jessie sank nearly to her hips as she followed his trail. Once over the bank
piled by the plow, the going was easier and the wind was cut by the trees, but
she would swear the temperature dropped ten degrees. The stillness echoed and
her breath hung in foggy plumes in the air. If she got lost out here, they
wouldn’t find her until spring.

“Chris!” His footsteps were easy to follow. They were deep
blue holes in pristine snow that sparkled in the moonlight. It really was a
beautiful night, all things considered. She looked up at the stars through a
hole in the clouds. They glittered in the billions, winking down at her as if
she were the only person on earth. Out here, in the silent woods, she might as
well have been.

It was as if he’d vanished. Jessie stopped, searching the
dark woods ahead. A jingling sound carried through the trees as though someone
ahead had dropped their keys. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
Where the hell was he?

“Mr. Kringle!” She scanned the matchstick pine. A glimpse of
red disappeared as quickly as she glimpsed it. Jessie started forward, but
stopped when she heard the sound again.

No way. Bells?

She broke into a run. It couldn’t be. It was just too
impossible.

She had to see for herself.

A pine branch slapped her cheek, delivering the minty aroma
of pine. She tripped over a snow covered log and twisted her ankle, but nothing
would stop her now.

She could hear the bells and a strange clamoring now, like
stampeding animals, and somehow in her heart she knew what it was even though
her mind would never believe it, and she just knew she had to get through this
grove and she would see with her own eyes…

“Ho, ho, ho!”

She burst into an open clearing that glowed with the light
of the fat moon.

She was completely alone.

A faraway breath of wind whispered through the pine, and
then there was nothing but startling silence. Clumps of snow hung heavy on
bending branches. One gave way with a swish, and she watched the cascade of dry
flakes drift to the ground.

Kringle’s footprints led to the center of the clearing and
disappeared into a trampling of hoof prints. Two deep grooves marked the path
of sleigh runners. She stared at the marks, knowing what she was seeing, and in
all absurdity…
believing
.

“Oh God.” Tears streamed from her eyes, put there first by
running through the cold, but kept there by the ache of Christmases lost. Of
years without faith. From all the resentment and anger endured.

Had she really let herself become so bitter?

She thought of Amy, so pure and innocent, and how she’d
believed so easily. What magic. How she’d love to see that little girl’s face
light up on Christmas morning. Of Tom and his sultry eyes and gorgeous smile,
and how she longed to cuddle into his lap as they watched Amy open presents
beside a lush, brightly decorated tree.

A glint of gold caught her eye through the shimmer of tears.
A small box lay in the unmarred snow on the far side of the trampled patch.
Jessie shivered under the rush of chills that rippled from head to toe.

Her entire body trembled as she crossed the clearing. The
box appeared to have been tossed there, or…
dropped
.

It was a tiny jeweler’s box, secured with a red ribbon, and it
inspired a long-ago familiarity. A tiny tag like the scrap of paper from a
fortune cookie fluttered in a barely discernable breeze.

To Jessie
.

She picked it up and held it in trembling fingers, almost
afraid to lift the lid.

Inside was the locket her father gave her before he died.

Jessie dropped to her knees. Tears no longer fell, but she
was crying—full on, chest heaving sobs she hadn’t allowed herself since she was
eight years old. She hadn’t seen her locket since the burglary almost twenty
years ago. Of everything that had gone missing that horrible night, it was the
only thing she ever wished she could have back.

She looked into the sky. Diamond chips glittered against
black velvet. It was all real, all of it. She’d been given a miracle, and
Jessie was finally ready to receive it.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the silent night.

Then she was up and running, the box clutched tight in her
hand.

* * *

Jessie could make it to Portland by five a.m. She’d wait
until she reached the edge of town to call Tom so she didn’t wake him too early
and was sure she’d avoided any delays from the weather or road conditions. Then
she’d happily wake him up with promises of naughty, adult Christmas presents to
come.

Jessie grinned at the idea. She left the tow rig parked on
the street and jogged into her complex. A shower would wake her up—not that she
needed energy by any means, and a granola bar would curb the hunger gnawing in
her stomach. She was buzzing on high adrenaline, pleasantly baffled by the
miracle she’d witnessed tonight. All she needed was a change of clothes, her
sexy undies thrown in a bag, and ten minutes to warm up her 4Runner.

She glanced at her truck in the carport, then did a double
take. A black Envoy sat next to it in the visitor spot. Could it be Tom’s
rental?

Jessie broke into a run across the fresh snow blanketing the
walkway to her building. She laughed out loud when she saw lights glowing
inside her townhouse. The sound rang out across the still, snow covered
landscape. She took the icy steps two at a time, risking another Christmas
spent in a cast, eager to see the look on his face.

The knob turned under her hand, no key required.

Tom was bent over in the center of her living room, placing
a merrily wrapped gift under a tiny, potted tree.

“Jessie, before you say anything—”

She ran across her living room and jumped into his arms,
wrapping her legs around his waist. She kissed him, swallowing his gasp of
surprise. For a moment he was still with shock, then his kiss surged, returned
with yearning. He tasted sweet, strong, and deliciously Tom.

Her kiss drifted on a sigh, and she left her eyes closed,
forehead pressed to his.

“All I was going to say was Merry Christmas. This year…and
next!”

*

I would like to personally thank you for reading One Snowy
Night Before Christmas. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as
I enjoyed writing it.

Please consider taking a moment to help others find this
book by leaving feedback where you purchased it. Your opinion truly does
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I love to hear from readers! If you have questions,
comments, or suggestions, or would like to find out about my next release, please
contact me through my website.
http://www.pamelafryer.com
.
At every release I hold a contest for free books.

Coming January 2012 from Pamela Fryer

August Unknown

Danger lurks in a past she can’t remember

She doesn’t know what happened the night of the storm, why
she was walking along the highway without ID, or why she has a fading tan line
on her wedding ring finger, but a dark and terrifying presence haunts the edge
of her memory. Before she can start a new life with the wonderful man who came
to her rescue, she must remember what in her past might take her away from him.

Heartache lies in a past he’d rather forget

After a tragically failed marriage, Geoffrey Barthlow has
only begun to scrape together the pieces of his shattered life. When Jane Doe
“August” falls into his world, he sees the opportunity to help her as a chance
to heal his own injured soul. But as he finds himself falling for the beautiful
mystery woman, he knows his heart is once again at risk; she has another life
somewhere that she will eventually remember.

Chapter One

The ocean roared in her ears. Waves crashed over her head
from all sides, stinging her eyes and choking her with mouthful after mouthful
of salty water.

Numbing cold dulled her senses. She fought against the water
pulling her down, but struggling only made it worse. In the darkness, she
couldn’t tell which way was up.

She strained to make out the flashes of light rushing across
her vision. A buoy? A lighthouse? Deep rumbling followed. It was lightning, and
dangerously close. A sudden pummeling of rain smacked the water around her like
the roar of stadium applause.

She was hurt. The sharp stinging at her hairline burned more
intensely with each wave that swept over her aching head. Lightning flashed
again, brighter and longer this time, revealing the depth of the empty darkness
surrounding her.

“Help! Somebody, please.”

She closed her eyes to squeeze out the salty burn as she was
pulled under again and again. She stopped fighting, letting ferocious pull of
the sea drag her under as she clung to the hope her lifejacket would bring her
up again.

The sharp pain in her head receded to a dull thump. She was
being battered by the pounding surge of the ocean, but the roar in her ears had
faded. It almost seemed they were filled with cotton.

Hypothermia. The idea was terrifying, and...not so bad.

She closed her mouth to the bitter salty water, no longer
calling out. She didn’t know who she was calling to. The icy harshness of her
surroundings drifted away and soft, velvety black draped over her awareness.

Her feet hit something. Before she realized what had
happened, the surge tossed her onto a rock-hard beach. One hand twisted
painfully under her body. She felt as though she’d plunged from a third story
window.

A wave followed, crashing over her with ruthless force.
Gravel churned around her as she was pushed further out of the ocean’s grip.

Her body felt like it weighed a ton, but the relief was
intense. She lay there, gasping out silent thanks.

Another wave crashed over her, jarring her awake. Darkness
surrounded her. It was night, and still storming. As awareness clawed its way
back, she became aware of fat raindrops hitting her.

She forced brittle arms to push herself upright. Pain throbbed
in her icy, numb fingers as she fumbled with the clips on her lifejacket. When
it finally came free, she dropped it behind her and looked around.

There were buildings in the inky distance. She squinted
through the rain. Not a single light shone, but strange light in the clouds
bathed the beach in a surreal luminosity.

What is this, an abandoned compound of some sort?

She struggled to stand, only to collapse on her hands and
knees again. The beach was rough, mostly stones and coarse sand. Pebbles stuck
to her palms.

A wave of nausea struck, and mouthfuls of ocean came up,
salty and bitter with bile. She heaved again and again until all that remained
in her stomach was gnawing emptiness.

She stood and wobbled precariously, but this time remained
on her feet. She was so cold and stiff each impossible step jarred her battered
body. Her bones felt like toothpicks about to snap. She was so weak the gusting
wind pushed her left and right, and made her stagger back a step.

The shapes on the horizon were fuzzy, but she was too tired
to focus. She just had to get there, that was all she knew.

Shelter. Warmth. Safety.

What had a moment ago been fat raindrops suddenly turned to
torrential sheets of sharp, icy slivers, knifing into the top of her tender
head. Lancing pain came alive again, strangely familiar, but she couldn’t
remember what caused it.

In the back of her mind she suspected she was in a ghost
town, headed for ramshackle buildings, but she didn’t care. She had to get out
of this rain and the bitter cold wind. She wanted to close her eyes so badly,
to sleep, just for a little while.
Sleep
.

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