One Snowy Night Before Christmas (4 page)

Now she hoped Tom would agree, if only to spite Mike.
“Considering how each of my Christmases just keep getting better and better,
you’re probably right.”

Nurse Brenda actually cracked a smile.

Tom frowned. “I’m not an axe murderer.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Nurse Brenda let loose a belly laugh. Tom glared at the cop,
but when he turned to her his expression softened. “Jessie, that’s a generous
offer, but I don’t want to put you out.”

“And I have no intention of letting you.” She glanced at the
sleeping child. For the briefest instant Jessie saw herself, young and innocent
and wanting so desperately for things to be better. The image rattled her. “Nor
do I intend to let this little girl sleep in a gymnasium with a bunch of
winos.”

“So, I’ll be able to reach you both at this number?” Brenda
asked, picking up the clipboard again.

As she glanced back at the commanding woman, Jessie swore
she saw Nurse Brenda wink.

Bathed in soft bluish light of widely spaced pillar lights,
the snow-covered condominium complex was eerily quiet and still in the
aftermath of the storm. Perhaps they were merely in the eye of the tempest, and
the worst was yet to come.

Having lived in Portland for two years, only ninety miles
northwest of Welcome, Tom still wasn’t used to the severe weather the mountains
could conjure in the blink of an eye. That much was obvious, he acknowledged
grimly. He’d nearly made a tragic mistake tonight, costing not only his own
life, but also the life of an innocent he was unaccustomed to feeling
responsible for.

Tiny snowflakes still fell slowly and silently to the
ground. The wind had all but stopped, but the bitter cold that settled in its
place cut to the bone and added to the surreal quality of the night. Tom felt
as if he’d been snatched out of reality and cast into a mythical realm in this
unexpected deviation to Welcome, Oregon. He was too tired to think of much more
than how grateful he was this ferociously independent woman had come to his
rescue not once, but twice.

Jessie’s building was the last in a sprawling complex at
least thirty years old, built in a time when space was revered and architects
weren’t trying to cram everyone on top of each other. Odd lumps in the
snow-covered terrain hinted at manicured shrubbery mixed within wide spans of
lawn and twisting pathways, and bare limbed trees held a dusting of snow on
their branches like frosting.

Tom was not surprised to find Jessie’s unit was the last in
the building, bordered on two sides by the open woods. She was obviously a
woman who liked her privacy, yet knowing this only made him want to learn more
about her.

Those unruly copper locks spilled over a cream-colored wool
sweater, bouncing around her shoulders as she led the way to her apartment. She
hadn’t asked for her jacket back, and Tom reveled in the small patch of warmth
it provided to his chest as he cradled a still-sleeping Amy cocooned in it.

Carrying his daughter’s two small suitcases, Jessie led the
way through the eerily silent park. In the chill that settled after the storm,
the surface of the snow layer had frozen and each crunching footfall sounded
unnaturally loud in the stillness. She seemed unfazed by the cold, while he
thought his hands would snap off and shatter at any moment.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Almost there.”
Her voice rang like crystal, crisp and clear in the frozen silence. Her next
door neighbor’s Christmas lights were still lit despite the hour. The large,
frosted bulbs glowed with red, blue, yellow and green warmth, creating pools of
softly colored light on the snow.

“This is a great place,” Tom whispered as she led him to the
landing outside the front door of the last unit. Hers was the only unit without
a single Christmas decoration. Not even a wreath on the front door. He waited
while she retrieved a key hidden under the wall-mounted mailbox and unlocked
the door. He followed her in, carrying his still-sleeping daughter into the
living room.

“That’s the benefit of mountain towns. Even condo living is
peaceful,” Jessie told him. “Actually, it’s a townhouse. The bedrooms are
upstairs.”

She must have shared this place with the patrolman. Several
large, empty spaces revealed key furniture had been removed. Judging by the
empty shelves on a wall display unit, the electronics had belonged to the cop.
A small flat panel television sat in a huge space where a bigger TV belonged.
The only other furniture in the large living room was a recliner and love seat
that didn’t match.

In the nook off the kitchen, an elegant glass dining table
and four modern, upholstered chairs sat on a vibrant multicolored oriental rug.
Additionally, a tiny soda shop table and two chairs sat in the corner of the
generous kitchen.

A large picture window looked into the darkness from the
kitchen, and the balcony off the dining area had a sliding glass access that
stretched nearly the length of the far wall. Light spilling from the living
room revealed a smooth blanket of snow over the personal items out on her
patio, including the wooden corners of an Adirondack chair barely peeking from
a huge drift at one end.

In an uncharacteristically childish desire to know more
about her, Tom immediately glanced around for family photos. There wasn’t a
single one.

“You and Amy can take the bedroom on the right.” Jessie
pointed upstairs. “There’s a queen bed with clean sheets.”

The place had a slightly antiseptic odor of cleaning
solution. He somehow knew he wouldn’t find the piney scent of a Christmas tree,
holiday potpourri or freshly baked gingerbread cookies. She had probably gone
on a cleaning binge to keep her mind off the holiday.

He carried Amy upstairs and slipped through the doorway
without turning on the light.

She squeaked with irritation when he laid her down on the
bed. “Mmm…mommy.”

His heart twisted in his chest. Even after all the abuse her
worthless mother had inflicted, Amy still mourned her. Her pitiful whimper
revealed the defeated inner spirit the little girl tried so hard to hide. Tom
stood back and stared down at her. He was going to devote his life to making up
for her mother’s neglect.

“She’s very special,” Jessie said, moving into the doorway.
The light in the hallway outlined her silhouette, revealing a long and curvy
figure and gilding her hair with fire. She’d removed the heavy snow trousers
and her wool sweater to stand before him in wintry black leggings, a tunic and
fuzzy slipper socks.

“Here, so you don’t have to dig through her suitcase. This
should fit her like a nightgown.” She spoke softly with a voice that all but
purred. She stepped inside the dark room. “And these…you can keep them. They’re
clean.”

She handed him a threadbare 49ers T-shirt, and a red sweat
suit emblazoned with the logo from Stanford University.

What man could abandon this at the altar, he wondered.
Jessie was stunning, with the kind of face that would retain elegant beauty
into her silver years.

“The patrolman has a Stanford education?” As with most of
what he said, he regretted it instantly. Jessie was smart enough to see his
pathetic attempt at snooping.

She laughed. “In his dreams.” Without another word she
turned and headed down the stairs.

Tom glanced at his sleeping daughter, suddenly unsure of
just what to do with the nightshirt. He was a complete stranger in her life and
it was not appropriate for him to remove her clothing. He hesitated, wondering
if he should call Jessie back to help him.

Tom sighed out his frustration. He wasn’t cut out for
parenthood, certainly not single-fatherhood. He gently shook Amy’s shoulder and
coaxed her awake. She whined and scowled, but allowed him to help her into the
shirt and under the covers.

“Are you hungry sweetie? You hardly ate a bite at dinner.”

The angry squeak she returned told him he’d earn the most
points by leaving her alone. He helped himself into the fuzzy sweat suit
quickly, thankful for the change of dry clothes. His pants had been wet to the
knees and in the cold, they would have never dried. It would have been nice to
have a pair of dry socks, but he wasn’t going to let cold feet stop him from
going downstairs to learn more about his gorgeous host.

Jessie turned around when she heard him enter the kitchen.
“I figure it’s a little late for coffee,” she said with a half-smile. She
stirred cocoa into a mug. In the late hour’s weariness, the tinkle of spoon
against ceramic brought melancholy warmth.

“Jessie,” Tom started. “What you have done for us is beyond
generous. I want you to know I intend to reimburse you for your hospitality.”

She flashed that smile over her shoulder again, warm and
bright and beautiful. She had a dimple in her left cheek.

“Don’t mention it. It was worth it to see that look on
Mike’s face.”

Tom’s heart sank. That wasn’t the reinforcement he was
looking for. Jessie offered him a mug, then led the way to the living room. He
followed and sat across from her on the love seat as she crawled into her
recliner and tucked her feet under herself. As the hot chocolate worked
beautiful magic on his empty stomach, he was reminded his last meal was almost
six hours ago.

“It’s no big deal. I’ve got plenty of space. We really need
another hotel in Welcome.”

“It’s a very big deal for me,” he told her. “A few hours
ago… I don’t want to think about what would have happened if help hadn’t come
along.”

She shook her head. “And you shouldn’t.”

He sighed, thankful for the odd comfort he felt in her
lonely apartment. There was a strange kinship here, and it appeared Jessie felt
it too. Or was he just fantasizing?

“I feel so awkward with her. I don’t know what to do. She
just sat there the whole time, not caring that she was cold, but only that
Santa wouldn’t be able to find her.”

She stirred her cocoa, then her lashes swept up slowly as
she fixed those vibrant green eyes on him. “Are you a divorced dad?” Again her
words trailed off, as if she realized too late the question was intimate.
“Sorry, none of my business.”

“We weren’t married,” Tom said for a simple explanation,
then decided to come clean. As ashamed as he was ever to have associated with a
person like Hannah, it opened the path to the questions he wanted to ask. “Her
mother was arrested two months ago for possession of a controlled substance
with intent to distribute. Methamphetamines.”

“Wow. That’s big.”

“And it’s her third strike. Hannah didn’t want me to know
because she’s afraid I’ll sue for custody. Amy was remanded to her
grandmother’s care until child protective services stepped in because the house
was such a wreck.” He sighed, feeling like a gigantic failure. “Amy was less
than a year old when her mother found a new boyfriend. I figured they were on
their way to a new life, and it would be best if I stepped out of the picture,
not that I was really in it to begin with. I knew Hannah was a wild thing, but
I never knew she’d fallen back on old habits. I would have stepped in.” He
shook his head. “I had no idea. That’s probably my first example of bad
parenting. The truth is I had no interest in being a parent.”

He’d been blind and stupid. Now, not only knowing what had
been going on in the home but knowing the angelic child he’d almost lost, he
wanted more than ever to be both a parent and a protector to Amy.

“Don’t hold yourself responsible for what other people do.”

She said it so firmly he knew she was talking from
experience. And she was right. But that didn’t make it easier to accept. He’d
almost made a colossal mistake.

“When I picked Amy up this morning, she didn’t remember me.”

“That must have been tough.”

“I didn’t realize how much I missed her until I saw her. And
how much of
her
I’d missed until she looked at me like I was a complete
stranger. She’s so grown up. My experience with kids is minimal, but I think
she’s more mature than most.” Her experiences were probably the reason. He was
thankful for the soothing cocoa as a frightening realization made his stomach
tighten. How could he have not realized his daughter needed him?

Jessie opened her mouth, but changed her mind and stared
down into her cup. Without looking up, she brought it to her lips and drank.

“Her mother could be in jail for as long as ten years,” he
volunteered. “By the time child services found me, they told me I had two days
to collect her or she’d be turned over to foster care.”

“That’s awful for a kid her age.” Her eyes darkened, as
though she were sweeping away something in her mind. “So you jumped in your car
and headed straight for Sacramento?”

“Of course. She’s my kid. But more than anything, I want to
do what’s right for Amy. Now that I’ve got her, I wonder if I’m the best person
to look after her. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jessie surprised him by laughing. “Somebody forget to put
the manual in with her? Believe it or not, none of them come with one. Sooner
or later you just figure it out.”

“Some sooner than others,” he said, chuckling with her.

“You’ll be fine.” Jessie’s voice held a soft wistfulness.
“You want to do a good job, I can tell. The most important thing is that you’re
there for her.”

“Tell that to her. This will go down in history as ‘The
Christmas Daddy ruined,’ as far as she’s concerned.”

“There are worse things.” Her voice had dropped another
notch. “And remember who it was that ran over Santa Claus.”

Tom’s heart leapt with his daring as he asked the question
he just couldn’t resist. “Do you hate Christmas just because you broke up with
your fiancé last year?”

“He broke up with me. But no, it goes back a lot farther
than that.” She looked out the window into the blackness. That long, awkward
silence Tom so often found himself in stretched again.