A Hero Grinch for Christmas (2 page)

Hunter stood in front of the two-story wood structure, taking in what he guessed was five thousand square feet. Denny’s idea of a cabin in the woods. He’d cut down trees, cleared a section of forest, and built a home sizable enough for a large family. Most of those logs were bigger around than Hunter.

Warmth flickered in his chest as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, Uncle Denny. But I got here as soon as I could.

The last time his uncle asked him to move to Wyattsville, Hunter had promised to seriously consider it. Before the plane landed in Afghanistan, he’d made the decision to do just that, at the end of his tour. Denny had been ecstatic over the news.

Then the accident happened.

Hunter shook off his regrets and trudged up the walkway. Scuffing snow from his boots, he pulled the keys and a small flashlight from his coat pocket, then unlocked the front door. He turned the flashlight on and shined it inside the living room. Home sweet home. Grief stabbed his chest.

A man of simple tastes, his uncle’s house was furnished the same as all bachelors. He had a couch, recliner, and cabin-style end tables. Expecting to see cobwebs and dust, Hunter was surprised how clean everything looked. Someone had been taking care of the place. His thoughts drifted to Fay. Maybe she’d been here.

Hunter passed through the kitchen and out the back door. Wood was stacked on the porch, and more filled the lean-to. Denny believed in being prepared. Hunter wouldn’t be surprised if the man had chopped wood every day. His uncle had been in great shape for his age.

Hunter stepped off the porch and found the generator in the shed. Checking for fuel, he saw it was low, so he added more from the gas can stored nearby. The motor started right up, and the porch lights came on. Satisfied, Hunter headed to the wood pile, grabbed as much as he could carry, and returned to the fireplace in the living room.

What he wouldn’t give for a cold beer or another hot cup of coffee. With the electricity on, it wouldn’t be a problem to brew a pot.

He should have done this long ago, left the military, and spent time with his beloved uncle. War zones had a way of changing a man’s perspective. His career as a Ranger attested there was no guarantee he’d see another sunrise after he fell asleep each night. But, even his uncle’s accident proved that life should not be taken for granted.

Hunter flipped the brew switch on the coffee pot, then drifted through the main room. Photos graced the mantel, a trip down memory lane. Pictures of two brothers, his dad and Denny, a shot of Hunter’s parents, and several of Hunter including one in his Army uniform.

He picked up the frame which showed him in a football uniform, Denny standing at his side. He swallowed as a fresh wave of grief choked him. Since his uncle had no kids, Hunter had been like a son. And he’d loved his uncle as much as any kid loved their father.

The smell of strong Columbian brew alerted him the coffee was done. He shook off the sadness and headed for the kitchen. Denny had liked open spaces, there was a long island with a granite counter separating the living room from the kitchen. Hunter grabbed his favorite cup and filled it to the brim. After satisfying his need for caffeine, he placed the cup on the counter and trudged back through the great room. Hefting his duffle bag over his shoulder, he climbed the wide staircase.

***

Hunter woke in a cold sweat. He checked for blood on his shaking hands. Explosions still rang in his ears. The screams seemed so real, making him think he was back in Afghanistan. His heart pounded, he’d been dodging gunfire again. He raked his fingers through his hair and counted to ten.

His feet hit the cold floor as he still counted, reminding him where he was. He padded to the en-suite bathroom and filled a glass with water. He downed it in one long gulp, then braced his arms on the sides of the sink.

Nightmares plagued him, dark memories of the warfront he’d served on. Would he ever have a normal night’s sleep again? He’d never forget, but he prayed for the pain and images of violence and death to stop. It was too much to hope they would completely disappear. He relived the terror of the battlefield every day. No one knew what killing someone felt like. No one could understand the terror of losing a buddy in combat, the moment when enemy fire struck a fellow soldier and he stopped breathing in your arms. Hunter lived with the guilt that his entire unit had been slaughtered. Analyzing every move, every decision. Wondering what he could have done differently, if he could have saved his comrade’s life.

He lifted his head and stared in the mirror hanging over the sink.

They’d given him a medal for Christ’s sake. A damned decoration for doing his job. For doing his duty. For living and leaving his brothers behind.

He closed his eyes. There weren’t enough drugs in the world that could shake the memories or dull that pain. Not that he would take pills. He’d never filled the prescriptions the doctors gave him. He did try to numb his mind with alcohol, yet all he managed to do was get drunk on his ass, memories intact. When he learned of his uncle’s death, it shattered his heart, leaving a hole the size of the Milky Way. Darkness filled the void where hope had once been.

He’d missed his chance to move in with his uncle. To share the man’s dream, to give him the only thing he’d asked for.
Time.
Hunter had seen too many deaths. Too much mourning. So he finished his enlistment, separated from the military, and then headed for Colorado.

And what did he end up with? An empty house and a broken heart.

He decided to go downstairs and look for a bottle of liquor. Denny had always kept the house well stocked, aside from the wine in his cellar.

A few embers glowed in the stone fireplace, so he threw on more logs and watched them catch fire. Staring into the flames relaxed him. Slowly, his tense muscles eased.

Calmer now, he went to the kitchen and checked the upper cabinets. He chose a bottle of Jack Daniels, opened it, and took a swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, relishing the burn. Grabbing the bottle by the neck, he padded to the fireside where he settled back in his uncle’s favorite recliner.

Screw the holidays; all Hunter needed was the comfort whiskey offered.

A strong gust of wind rushed through the door as Clarice Shadwell hurried into the shop.

“Oh, my heavens!”

Dani rushed to help her close the door. The wind whirled snow in a circle, and half of what she’d shoveled this morning just blew inside.

“Thank you, Dani. The wind is really kicking up.”

“Are you all right, Mrs. Shadwell? I didn’t realize the gusts were so strong.”

She pulled her scarf from her head and patted her teased up hair-do. Dani hid a smile.
Talk about a bird’s nest.

“Let me take your coat.” Dani helped her slip it off and then hung it on the brass rack near the door. “I’ll make you a cappuccino from our new machine.”

“A what?”

“It’s a special coffee. Come on and sit down.”

“Wait a moment.” She stepped to the big bay window and leaned forward. “There. Who is that young man?”

Dani looked outside. “Where?”

“There.” Clarice pointed in earnest.

A tall man with his coat collar pulled up stepped into view across the street. Dani would recognize him anywhere.

Hunter.

“Oh, he just stepped into Calvin’s. Now I’ll have to wait to find out who he is.”

Clarice Shadwell was one of the long-standing residents of Wyattsville. The woman knew everyone, and if she didn’t, she made it her business to find out.

“You don’t have to wait,” Dani said. “That’s Denny’s nephew.”

“What? Why . . .” Her beady eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do you know?”

“He came in the shop last night.”

“Then Fay already knows.” Clarice looked out the window again. “Poor boy. Lost his uncle and all. The man loved that boy something fierce.”

If Dani knew how to read people, she’d say the feeling was mutual. The grief she saw in Hunter’s eyes made her want to put her arms around him and take away his sorrow.

“I wonder if he’ll move into the cabin or put it up for sale.”

“He said he was staying there,” Dani said.

“Makes sense. He is the next of kin, I suppose. I never heard Denny mention anyone else.”

“Clarice,” Fay called from the doorway leading to the back. “I knew I heard your voice.”

“Hello, Fay. Your niece has been filling me in on some interesting news.”

“Has she now?”

The two women headed to a table by the fireplace. With her back to the ladies, Dani started up the espresso machine and the sweet smell of vanilla filled the air. She prepared two coffees, then placed them on the table.

“Thank you, Dear,” her aunt said with a warm smile.

“Thank you, Dani. What’s this? There’s foam in my cup.” Clarice sounded surprised.

“That’s a cappuccino,” Dani answered. “It’s coffee with a nice vanilla flavor. The machine makes the milk foam.”

“Milk? In the machine?” She turned in her chair to glance at the espresso machine.

“Taste it.” Dani beamed with pride.

Clarice took a sip and smiled. “It’s good. Very good.”

“Thank you.” Dani gave her aunt an I-told-you-so look, then she happily returned to the counter and made one for herself.

“So you knew Denny’s nephew was back in town?” Clarice seemed a bit put out over the idea.

“Clarice,” Fay started. “The poor man just arrived last night. I was at home, and Dani was in the shop alone.”

Clarice shifted her gaze to Dani, waiting for her confirmation. She nodded.

“You see,” Fay added. “I had no time to tell you.”

“So, he’s living at the cabin?”

It amazed Dani that everyone called Denny’s home a cabin. The thing was huge and beautiful. How he managed to build it by himself, she didn’t know. She joined the ladies at the table.

“Denny strutted around here like a peacock waiting for the boy to come home.” Fay dabbed the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “He was so proud of Hunter. He’s a decorated war hero, you know.”

“Of course, I know.” Clarice bristled. “Calvin had all the details for the newspaper. Purple Heart. Bronze Star. He was even recommended for a Medal of Honor. The boy served three tours in Afghanistan.”

“Denny was afraid he would be killed over there.” Fay sniffed again.

“And now his uncle is gone,” Clarice said sadly.

If the two women continued, Dani would need to bring out a box of tissues.

The bell above the door jingled and once again the wind blew snow into the store. All heads turned toward the door.

“Good. You’re both here.” Sarah Brumby straightened her hat. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.”

“Come warm yourself by the fire,” Fay called.

“Why are you glad we’re both here?” Clarice asked.

“You’ll never guess who I just saw. Denny Armstrong’s nephew is in town.”

“I knew before you did,” Clarice puffed up. “He got here last night.”

Dani smiled as the women competed over who knew the latest gossip first. “You must be frozen. Why don’t you sit by the fire and I’ll bring you a hot cappuccino to take away the chill.” Dani offered to take Sarah’s coat.

“What’s that?” Sarah screwed up her face.

“It’s coffee.” Clarice said, then lifted her cup and sipped as though the drink was nothing new to her. “Now sit down. You’re dripping snow on me.”

Dani chuckled and hung Sarah’s coat on the brass rack. She crossed the room and turned on the machine. Looks like her early Christmas gift would be well broken in by the time the big day arrived.

She served Sarah her drink, smiling as the woman oohed and ahhed over the flavor. Dani took her own cup and stood gazing out of the store window, the chatter of the elderly women echoed in the background. The snow had tapered off, but the wind still blew swirls of misty white along the sidewalk.

She was glad to be away from New York. Fifty million visitors rotated through the city every year. And at Christmas time—total chaos. She shivered. People were nuts during the holidays. Thousands of crazies congregated in Time’s Square on New Year’s Eve just to watch the Waterford crystal ball drop down a pole. All Dani wanted was to get out of there. Every December she came home to her favorite person in the world—Aunt Fay. And she loved spending time in Wyattsville.

She glanced down the street watching the blinking lights on the buildings when she saw someone coming up the sidewalk, his head tilted against the wind.

Hunter.

Dani’s pulse leaped with excitement. Damn. She’d seen her share of hotties in New York. But none compared to Hunter, not even the Calvin Klein models on the billboards in Times Square.

She hoped she was on Santa’s good girl list, because she knew what she wanted.

Christmas, her favorite time of year.

***

Christmas. God, he hated this time of year.

Hunter didn’t like the festive music, twinkling lights, and cheery people. He’d come to Wyattsville to escape reality. But he still needed supplies, which meant coming to town. Did everyone have to be so damned pleasant? Even the newspaper office had music blaring from their storefront while the secretary sprayed fake snow on the large window.
Like they didn’t have enough outside
.

Maybe life did go on, but right now, he didn’t give a shit.

Freezing cold suited him just fine. He hunched his shoulders against the howling wind, tucked his chin into his coat collar and glanced across the street at Fay’s novelty shop. His throat tightened as he thought about the girl he’d met last night. A real beauty. The sudden stir below his belt meant his body agreed. He’d heard plenty about Dani from his uncle. And Fay couldn’t help but brag about her niece living in New York.

So the big city girl was visiting Wyattsville for the holiday? Although she didn’t seem the snobbish type, one normally expected attitude from New Yorkers. He knew the type—models, Broadway stars, and unscrupulous women who only wanted men with loads of money. He’d met his share of opportunistic women, and a select few had given him one hell of a ride in bed. But it never went beyond the bedroom.

Besides, he didn’t have time to play games. As a Ranger, he didn’t open himself up to serious relationships. That here today, gone tomorrow philosophy held strong in his mind.

Jerking the door open on the pickup, he jumped inside, grateful to be out of the wind, and blew hot air into his palms. A vision of green eyes and plush lips flashed in his mind.

Dani.

He took another glance at the shop window. No matter how tempting, she was out of reach. He didn’t want a woman in his life right now. Even if he did, Dani was Fay’s niece. Out of respect for his uncle, Hunter wouldn’t mess with a close acquaintance.

He started the engine, gripped the steering wheel, and drove back to the cabin.