Angels In Red (8 page)

Jenna inspected the chair.
Should I sit and wait or can I…?

She grinned mischievously, knowing Jack would have a fit if he walked in on her. She gripped the outer rungs of the chair and straightened her body, until her slow-to-heal ribs made it painfully clear to stop.

It can’t be more than six feet to the back of the sofa. I can do this.

Using a short shuffle-and-push step she made it to the couch. She eyed the seat of the chair longingly.
No, if I sit now, I’ll never make it on my own.

She summoned a fresh surge of energy…ignoring each muscle’s cry out in revolt of the final steps. If she had an ounce of strength left, she would have done a victory dance having made it on her own. As it was, she dropped the second half of her descent to the couch and closed her eyes until the streak of pain the action took on her ribs subsided

Completely and utterly spent, the crackling fire captured her attention—mesmerized by red turned orange, she watched gold tips snap like the crack of a whip, sending sparks up the black metal pipe.

Jenna stared at the fire until her pulse returned to normal.

There’s a fireplace in almost every room of the estate, and not one of them, even remotely makes me feel as warm or comforted.

She lifted her legs to stretch out on the sofa,
tucking the blankets under them as best she could. The heat of the fire soon warmed her outstretched hands and chased the goose bumps from her freshly scrubbed skin.
It feels so good to be clean
. She splayed the fingers on her good hand and pushed them through her wet hair.

“Ouch!” It was going to take forever to work through her unruly, tangled curls. She huffed and leaned back against her pillows. The effort of taking a shower left her completely wiped out.
If I don’t address the knots while it’s wet I’ll have a much bigger problem on my hands.

Jenna slowly sat up again and repeated the process, only to snag another tangle.

“Ohh!” She dropped her hand and flopped back. “Ouch! Crap!” Her ribs were on fire, having pushed them to the limit.

A cool breeze ended her tirade, and she looked over the back of the sofa to find Jack grinning at her.

“Are you okay?” He chuckled.

“Just peachy, thanks for asking.”
No, do not cry. You made it this far without tears.

“Would you like to use my brush?” He took off his coat and boots and ducked into his bedroom, reappearing in seconds with the item in hand.

She saw that he took notice of the kitchen chair still sitting behind the couch, but he said nothing. No scolding, no smart-ass remark, no congrats on making it on her own. The sting of disappointment for not being praised for her accomplishment came unexpectedly.

More than a little embarrassed, Jenna gratefully took the brush from his hands, fumbling with a way to hold it with her fingers taped together.

Jack snatched the brush back from her.

“Hey, why’d you do that?”

He rounded the couch to stand beside her. “Scoot up a bit.”

“What?”

“I’ll brush your hair if you scoot up so I can sit behind you.”

His offer left her without words. It would never have crossed her mind to ask for help with her hair from him, or any man for that matter.

He sat behind her and wedged a pillow between them for her to rest back against.

“Are you sure you can handle this? I’ve got a big mess going on up there.”

“I think so.”

His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he lifted her hair. She shivered.

“Are you cold? Should I put more wood on the fire?”

Warm breath against her skin made her tingle all over. “No, I-I’m fine,” she murmured.

He lightly worked through her hair, not once pulling so it hurt. She closed her eyes, the motion, soothing. “Tell me something, Jack, did you ever like Christmas?”

He stopped mid-stroke. “Um, it’s not that I don’t
like
Christmas, I just don’t see the point in putting up decorations, or stuffing a turkey for just me and the dogs.”

Jenna shrugged. “That’s actually quite sad. I can’t imagine not at least having a Christmas tree. There’s something almost…magical about a decorated tree.”

Her hair, silky as a newborn pup’s slid through his fingers easily. Now tangle-free, he continued brushing it dry. “I guess I’ve never looked at it that way.”

The scent of floral shampoo and body wash lingered in the cabin. Jack hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the scent of a woman. She eased back closer and closer to him—her breathing grew slow and steady
.

Sleeping?

He didn’t have the heart to wake her, and if he was honest with himself, quite enjoyed having her close. Gently, he tugged the pillow out from between them and eased her back to rest against his chest. Once he rearranged the blanket to cover her, he folded his hands at her waist and closed his eyes.

She’s the perfect fit…almost too perfect.

His feelings were growing for this woman, and if he was right, that worked both ways. She’d be going home soon. He was a fool to allow himself to fall in love, but he’d grown powerless to stop.  Her presence stirred up memories he’d tucked away for quite some time now, the good parts—laughter, the joy in a simple conversation, self-worth that came from being appreciated, things he’d forgotten after Carly’s death.

Maybe Jenna would break his heart, but at least he’d have times like this to look back on during those long lonely nights in his foreseeable future.

Jack pressed his cheek against the side of her head, committing the scent and feel of her hair against his skin to memory. But most of all…the warmth of her body next to his.

“A car went through the guardrail…”

It’s Jenna.

The chief went on about road conditions, but Charles heard all he needed to hear. The tightness in his chest and the swell of emotions rising up in him made the conclusion, undeniable—Jenna, the girl he loved as if she were his own daughter, had been behind the wheel of the car that crashed through the guardrail.

“We haven’t positively matched the paint and chrome. It might not be hers.” Chief Swanson spoke from behind his cluttered desk.

“I hear you, Chief.” He bowed his head. “I know it’s her Jaguar. I don’t expect you to understand, but when you find a piece of your heart missing…” The vintage wooden chair creaked under the weight of him shifting.

“Have faith, my friend. We should have some answers soon.”

Just then, the door opened and an officer passed the chief an envelope. “The results are in.”

He tore it open, and read the paper.

Silence…spoke loud and clear
.
Charles pressed his face in his hands and drew in a ragged breath.
I’m so sorry, Jenna. I should have tried harder to keep you from leaving.

A firm hand on his shoulder kept his emotions in check. He shook his head and straightened in his chair.
“So, what happens now?” Charles stood and walked to the window. “Send out a search team?”
Is there any chance you could be out there, kiddo?

Chief Swanson shook his head. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do right now.” He slapped the results down on his desk. “If she did go over the side, I’d say the chances of her surviving are pretty slim, and even if she did, she’s been out there in some pretty nasty weather, for days...”

Charles swallowed the lump in his throat. 
I can’t stand around here and do nothing.
“Let me at least see for myself.”

“Okay. I can make that happen.”

Should I phone her father?

No, not until he checked it out. Besides, Kenneth would just tell him to take care of things and call when there was something concrete to report.

Charles rushed out the door after the officer. Part of him wanted to know for sure, but the other half wanted to run the other way.

He stepped out of the precinct into a virtual Christmas Wonderland. The whole town was abuzz with preparations for the Christmas Eve celebrations later that night.

Jenna loves Christmas
.

He looked up at the sky.
Please let it be a Merry Christmas.

Jack had just tied down the tree to his sled when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. He took out his binoculars to find two police cars with lights flashing over the break in the guard rails. They’d find no sign of the Jag. It was completely buried under several feet of snow by now.

He tucked the binoculars away and quickly finished tying up the tree.  He’d woken sometime later that afternoon with her still in his arms and, on a whim, managed to slip away without waking her. So focused on his surprise, he’d completely dismissed the fact Jenna had family. And whether she believed they cared or not, surely someone had to be praying she’d make it back for Christmas.

There has to be.
No woman like her goes through life unloved.

Should I tell her? Am I selfish not to, at least until after Christmas Eve?
She didn’t seem to be too concerned it was Christmas; in fact, she’d asked to stay longer. He looked back up the mountainside to find one of the cars gone, but the two remaining men seemed to be deep in conversation, standing on the ridge overlooking the steep incline.

Even if they did match the paint to Jenna’s car, they wouldn’t be able to search with this much snow. He couldn’t even ride the sled out there right now. They’d have to wait for some of it to melt. Nothing would be conclusive until at least after the holidays.

I’ll have to play it by ear.
For now, he hoped Jenna would be pleased with a Christmas tree—the first one he’d had in over five years.

The mouth-watering scent of bread baking reached him before he got to the cabin telling him she must have put the loaves he’d left to rise in the oven.

Once he let the dogs off their lead, he put them in the barn to wind down and be out of the way. His mouth went dry with the realization he was excited to see her reaction to the tree.  He felt like a kid with a secret.

He shook the snow from the branches and opened the door. “I’m back. Look what I found?”

Jenna turned from setting two golden brown loaves on a wire rack; her eyes grew big. “A Christmas tree?” She took a couple of shaky steps, using the counter edge for leverage, and touched the boughs and sniffed the scent from her fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Her peaches and cream skin had a fresh-scrubbed tint and her now dry hair shone from a good brushing, falling in ringlets to frame her sweet face.

Jack’s elation quickly dissipated as unease clouded her otherwise vibrant green eyes. Not exactly the reaction he’d hoped for.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I should at least make a phone call to let Charles know I’m okay.”

His heart sank. It became painfully clear to him what he viewed as an intimate moment hadn’t evoked in her the intense emotions he’d experienced.

I’m an idiot.
 

“Of course you’d want to be home for Christmas. I’ll just take this back outside.”

“No wait.” She leaned heavily against the countertop. “Come sit with me for a second.”

Jack’s walls went up, brick by brick with every step he took toward her.  Was it empathy or pity he saw in her eyes? Either way, he didn’t want her to stay because she felt sorry for him. Though it had only been mere days, he’d been a fool to think that he alone would be enough for a woman like her.

“You don’t have to say anything. The dogs need a short rest, and then I can take you to town. You could be home in time to spend Christmas Eve with your family.”

She furrowed her brow. “Do you
want
me to leave?”

Jack quickly turned away, shrugging indifference as he grabbed the tree trunk. “I’ll go check on the dogs. Why don’t you get ready to go. You have fifteen to twenty minutes.”

He hefted the evergreen up and pushed it back out the door.