One Snowy Night Before Christmas (2 page)

The little girl regarded her with those haunted eyes.
Thankfully it was late; he could blame her silence on the hour.

“I’m just grateful you came along. I don’t want to think
what would have happened otherwise.”

She pulled off a thick glove and offered her hand. “I’m
Jessica Jeffries. You can call me Jessie.” She shook his with a capable grip.
“You wouldn’t have been out here long. The highway patrol is going to shut down
the road in about a half hour. They always clear it with the plow, just to make
sure they don’t leave anyone stranded.”

Her warm hand helped the life crawl back through him. “I’m
Tom Dunham, this is my daughter, Amy.”

She put the mighty truck in gear and slowly pulled away.
“Dunham, as in Dunham Law in Chester?”

“Yeah, you’ve heard of me?”

“Nope. Just driven past your building. I love Victorian
houses and that one is hard to miss.”

For some reason he felt disappointed by that explanation and
he didn’t volunteer that he only rented the place. She kept her eyes on the
road and her conversation sounded like she was only half talking to him.

“This is some night,” he said, struggling for small talk.
Why did the presence of a beautiful woman always leave him tongue-tied? He
could handle himself with the ruthlessness and precision of an attacking
general in the courtroom, but put him alone in a confined space with a
beautiful woman and he turned into a clown. And not one of those witty, cute
clowns that could make balloon animals, but one of those clumsy, funny looking
ones that were always the butt-end of the joke.

“Caught you unaware, did it?” she asked.

He watched her profile as she stared at the road ahead. She
was a tall girl, yet delicate at the same time. With full lips, flawless skin
and the well-defined bone structure of a Victoria’s Secret model, she was the
last person he expected to find driving a tow truck.

“What has you out so late in a snowstorm?” Her words
faltered near the end of her question, as though she decided too late it was a
personal question.

“We’re on our way home from Sacramento. There was an
accident on I-5 and I thought cutting off the main highway would save some
time.”

“Ah well, don’t worry. This weather can surprise the best of
us.”

“The ‘best of us’ are smart enough to buy this stuff.” He
fingered a wrinkle in her heavy polar jacket. “Right after Christmas, I’m going
to buy a suit of armor like this for us both.”

Apparently Amy didn’t know he was talking about her, or
simply didn’t care.

Jessie skillfully steered the massive truck around a hairpin
turn. The wind pounded them, making the truck shudder. The dark night was
consuming, murky. “How long have you been driving a tow truck?” he asked.

What a stupid question.
Do you come here often? Dhur
.

“Six years.” She didn’t take her eyes from the road to
answer.

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Oh yeah?” Jessie glanced at him. The smile was gone, her
expression hard. “Why?”

Note to self: open mouth only to insert foot
.

“I…it just seems like a big job.”
Criminy
.

The sardonic smile returned. She patted his hand. “Don’t you
worry your pretty little head about that.”

Touché
.

Now he felt like a real idiot, but Jessie laughed at her own
jibe, cutting his tension in half, and he chuckled along with her.

She picked up her radio and called in, to Hazel no doubt,
telling her she’d picked up “the ducks.” The radio crackled in response, but
Tom couldn’t make out any of the words. Jessie dropped the microphone back in
its holder and looked past him at Amy again. “That hot chocolate getting you
warmed up?”

Amy nodded. “Uh huh.”

Glory be, a response. Followed by another uncomfortable
silence. Jessie slowed the truck for a tight S-turn.

“How’d you get stuck working through the holidays?” Even
before he finished asking the question, he knew it was a mistake. He was
intrigued by this delightful contradiction of beauty and strength and had lost
control of his mouth.

“Don’t celebrate Christmas,” she answered simply.

“Are you Jewish?”
Shut up, Dunham
.

She glanced at him. All the sarcasm was gone, as was the
glimmer in those vivid green eyes. Now they were cool, like the ocean under a
stormy sky. “No, I just hate Christmas.”

Amy shot her a surprised look. “How can you hate Christmas?”
Her already shrill voice hit a high-note, as though it were the most outrageous
thing she’d ever heard.

For a moment Jessie’s hardness faltered. Her eyes were
almost sad. No…hurt was a better way to describe them. “I’ve just had a lot of
bad luck at Christmas, that’s all.”

As she looked at the road again, her face suddenly
registered shock. “Oh my God!” She hit the brakes, sending the truck sliding to
a stop, but not fast enough. Whatever was in the road, it made a sickening thud
as it impacted the front grille.

“Tell me that was a deer,” Tom said.

Ice cold horror rendered her numb. “In a red snowsuit?”

“You killed Santa Claus!” the little girl shrieked.

Jessie jumped from the truck and ran into flurrying snow.
Her stomach dropped out when she saw the figure sprawled in the road. “Oh no.
No-no-no!
”

A man dressed in a tattered red winter suit lay sprawled in
an odd position ten feet away. She stopped, unable to believe the grisly sight
in front of her.

“It’s a man!” Tom was suddenly beside her. He hugged
himself, shivering against the cold.

“Jesus,” Jessie answered, but almost nothing came of her
voice. “Christ. Jesus.”

Tom started toward him, and somehow she managed to move her
feet as well.

The man was old, with silver hair and decades of wrinkles
etched in his face. She knelt beside him, terror-struck by his closed
eyes. 
God, please don’t let him be
…

He opened his eyes and blinked snowflakes from his lashes.

Thank God
.

“Geez, mister, are you all right?” The tears pooling in her
eyes were made cold by the howling wind before they even fell. The odd
sensation added to the nightmarish trance enveloping her.

The old man shifted and groaned. Thankfully she’d only been
doing about fifteen miles an hour when she hit him, but even that would be
enough to knock a Brahma bull senseless.

“I’m fine, dear.” He struggled onto his elbows.

“Take it easy, mister,” Tom said, helping him sit up. “Let’s
make sure you don’t have any broken bones before you try to get up.”

“What the hell were you doing out in the middle of the
road?” Jessie snapped before she could stop herself. “For that matter what are
you doing out on a night like this?” She blinked away her tears. One slipped
from the corner of her eye and left an icy trail down her cheek. She quickly
wiped it away before either man noticed.

“I was separated from my ride.” The howling winds almost
stole the old man’s dust-and-cobwebs voice away.

“You ran over Santa!” Tom’s daughter dropped to her knees in
the snow beside him, seemingly unconcerned that she wore only stockings under
her dress. She gripped the sleeve of his coat and shook him. “Santa!”

Tom snatched her up. “Honey, this isn’t Santa.” Before
Jessie realized what he was doing, he’d thrust the little girl into her arms.
“Get her back in the truck. I’ll help him.”

Amy struggled against her as Jessie headed back through the
glowing beams of the rig’s headlights. She hadn’t pulled on her hood before
jumping out. Her hair whipped in the wind, lashing her face.

Amy had left the passenger door standing open. Jessie slid
in on the driver’s side and positioned her in the middle of the truck so Tom
and the old man could climb in on the passenger side. The little girl started
crying almost immediately.

“It’s all right, sweetie. He’s only rattled a little bit.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Sure he is,” Jessie promised, though inside she wasn’t so
sure. “Here they come now, see?”

He might be a chauvinist pig, but Tom had a lot of courage
to brave the cold, she had to give him that. With the heavier man’s arm slung
over his shoulder, Tom was literally dragging him up the road.

She picked up the radio. “Hazel, come in. Call the hospital,
let them know I’m bringing in an injured passenger. Over.”

The radio squawked. She heard enough to know Hazel wanted to
know how far away she was.

“ETA ten minutes, over.”

Tom pushed the man into the cab and carefully slid in beside
him. Jessie turned the heater back on high and put the truck in gear.
Thankfully they were only two miles outside of town.

Amy twisted in the seat to face the mysterious man. “Santa,
Santa!” She tugged on the man’s red jacket.

“Amy, don’t poke him,” Tom said through chattering teeth.
“He could be hurt.”

Oh hell. Jessie longed to steal a glance to see if there was
any blood, but her nerves were sufficiently jangled and she wasn’t taking her
eyes off the road again for
anything
.

Amy settled on the wide bench seat “Santa, are you hurt?”
Her little voice revealed all the fear a little girl should never know. The old
man only let out a thin gasp.

Jessie groaned inwardly.
I’m cursed. Now kids are going
to think I ran over Santa. There’ll be a flaming bag of dog poop at my front
door every year for the rest of my life
. Christmas had continued to get
steadily worse year after year. What could possibly happen next year to top
this?
Forget it, kill me now
.

“What’s all that about?” Tom asked as they turned onto Main
Street. Two police cars blocked the lanes, lights flashing. Jessie eased the
truck through the gap in between.

“They’re closing the highway, just like I said.”

“Should we stop? Maybe they can help.”

“That big brick building is the hospital,” she told him. “I radioed
ahead. They’re expecting us.”
And one of those cops will be along soon
enough. With my luck, it’ll be Mike
.

She angled the tow truck into the hospital’s circular
driveway. A glowing neon light marked the entrance to Emergency. She stopped
the truck in front and Tom helped the old man out. Two orderlies and a doctor
came rushing out with a gurney, proving Hazel had understood her message. Tom
eased the old man down then scooped up his daughter.

“How old is the patient?” Jessie heard the doctor ask.

“We don’t know him.” Cradling his frightened daughter, Tom
slammed the door and cast one look back at her through the window before
following them inside.

Jessie maneuvered the rig to a long curb where it and Tom’s
Cutlass wouldn’t block other vehicles and then hurried in after them.

The hospital halls were nearly empty. She stopped a nurse
hurrying by. “An old man was just brought in—”

“First hall on your left.” She pointed. “Examination room
one.”

Jessie hadn’t been inside the hospital since the Christmas eight
years ago when she broke her leg. Knowing her luck, she should have counted on
it being Christmas when another unpleasant circumstance brought her back here.

She found Amy sitting in a chair in the hall, her frightened
eyes ringed with dark circles. “Would you watch my jacket for me?” Jessie knelt
in front of her and wrapped her coat around the little girl’s shoulders.

The quiet little girl nodded as she snuggled into it. “Is
Santa going to be okay?”

Jessie forced a smile. “The doctors are going to fix him up
just fine.”

“Excuse me, miss? Are you the one who brought him in?”

She turned to find large African American woman behind the
desk holding out a clipboard. She set it, and a pen on the counter.

Jessie could see the condescension in her raised eyebrows.
What she’d really wanted to say was “
Are you the one who ran him over?
”

“Um, yes. But I don’t know anything about him. He was just
in the road.”

“Mmm hmm.” She eyed Jessie. “You brought him in, you admit
him.” She turned around, clearly not open to arguing the matter. Jessie sighed
and went to the counter. Most of the required information appeared to be
personal and insurance related. She figured she should be responsible for his
bill and did her best to fill it out. Elmer was going to have her ass for this.

Worry got the better of her. She had to know what was
happening. She left the clipboard, forms halfway filled out, and walked slowly
to the emergency bay. One of the doctors was dictating information to a nurse.
So far, they’d dubbed him John Doe. “Male patient, approximately sixty years of
age, visible injury to the head…”

Jessie took a tentative step inside. “He was in the middle
of the road. The snow was so thick I didn’t see him until it was too late.”

One of the nurses looked up and made his way over. “He’s not
carrying any ID. Can you tell us how long he was outside?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know anything about him except
that he was suddenly in front of my truck. Is he badly hurt?”

“A bump to the head, some cuts and bruises. We’re going to
X-ray him right now to make sure there isn’t any serious damage.”

The old man came awake as they rolled him past, and Jessie
heard him moan something indecipherable. It sounded like “Vixen…”

He would probably be calling her a lot worse when he
regained his wits.

“How you feeling, partner?” the doctor asked him as they
wheeled past. “You’ve taken a nasty spill in front of a truck. Do you know
where you are?”

That heavy, sinking feeling returned to Jessie’s stomach. In
the bright lights of the hospital, the old man’s face was as gray as roadside
snow, the newly visible goose egg on his forehead purple and shiny. They left
her standing alone in an eerily silent room as they rounded the corner and whisked
the old man away.