A Holiday to Remember (9 page)

“Sounds good. I’m pretty tired of oatmeal, myself.” Monique let a spoonful of porridge plop back into her bowl. “Speaking of food, I’m in charge of our holiday dinner. What can we cook that’s special? Do we have a turkey? A big, juicy roast? How will we make mashed potatoes without a mixer?”

They finally decided that roast chicken was their best option. Potatoes could be baked on the coals, and Jayne thought she could create a dessert with fruit, instant pudding and whipping cream. After cleaning up the kitchen, the girls went to dress for more outside play. Too weary even to get herself another cup of coffee, Jayne folded her arms on the table and put her head down. If she could just sleep for an hour…

“Is this the indefatigable Tommy Thomas I see before me?” Chris stood at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb. “Every time I look lately, you’re falling asleep.”

“That’s because you aren’t around in the middle of the night, when I can’t sleep at all.” Jayne ran her hands over her hair, hoping it didn’t look too mussed. She hadn’t yet done any real grooming this morning. “Come to think of it, I haven’t had a decent night’s rest since you arrived. I’m beginning to think it’s all your fault.” She got up from the table to refill her coffee. “And don’t call me that.”

“The girls do, when you’re not around.”

“That’s their privilege as students.”

“Then I’ll just call you a grouch.” He advanced to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug. “Looks like the girls are ready to hit the snow.”

“Oh, yes.” She didn’t have to pretend a shiver. “Another wonderful morning spent standing in the cold.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, I think you could use some time to yourself. Why don’t you stay inside for a
couple of hours while I watch the girls? I promise I won’t let anything happen to any of them.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she took a quick sip of coffee to hide them. “That’s a very nice suggestion.”

“But?”

“But they are my responsibility. If anything happened and I wasn’t there, the explanations, the repercussions…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain your presence here, as it is.”

“You were the Good Samaritan who sheltered me after I crashed at your gate. We can’t be blamed that a big blizzard showed up at the same time.”

“And you have been very helpful,” she conceded. “I doubt we’d have kept the fire going so well without you.”

“Gee, I’m so glad to hear that.”

His sarcastic tone turned her to face him. “Why are you upset?”

He gave a sullen, one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t see myself as the Boy Scout type.”

“You’d rather bully me into admitting I’m someone else?”

“You
are
Juliet.”

“I thought you’d given up on this craziness.”

“I’m waiting for you to recognize the truth.”

They glared at each other while excited voices approached down the hallway.

Jayne snapped free of his gaze at the last possible moment and focused on the students, instead. “You all look ready for a morning of snow angels and sledding.”

Selena took a step forward. “Actually, what we’d really like is to go ahead and start getting stuff from the woods for our decorations. You know—holly and pinecones and branches. Plus, we’re having a Yule tree.” She glanced at Taryn and Beth,
on either side of her, for support. “We need to find a good one and we were hoping Mr. Hammond would cut it down for us.”

Chris nodded. “I’ll be glad to help. Let me get my coat and gloves.”

He left the kitchen even as Jayne registered the fact that he hadn’t checked with her for permission before agreeing.

“I’ll get dressed and meet you by the door,” she told the girls. Chris Hammond might think he could handle seven “little” girls by himself, but all he had to work with was a sexy smile and some well-built muscles.

She—Jayne Thomas, holder of a Ph.D. in counseling and social work, with a speciality in adolescent education, licensed in the state as a certified social worker and certified family therapist—was the ultimate authority in this school, the source of discipline and decisions. That was her role in life, her identity, however much Chris Hammond might wish she was someone else.

And however much she might wish he could see her—want her, even love her—as herself.

Once outside, the girls decided to start the hunt for their “Yule tree” immediately. Chris walked at the front of the group with the ax he’d found in the tool room over his good shoulder. Jayne brought up the rear of the procession, keeping her distance despite the fact that he didn’t know where he should look for a tree on the vast Hawkridge estate.

Selena trudged beside him. “Ms. Thomas says we should follow the long trail toward Hawk’s Ridge overlook. There will be trees we can choose from there.”

“Sounds good, but for the part where I don’t know the Hawk’s Ridge trail. I haven’t spent much time here at the school.”

“The trail starts at the edge of the forest behind the dormitory.” They plowed through the unmarked snow without talking for a few minutes, working hard as the ground sloped upward in front of them. On a short stretch of even ground, Selena said, “Do you live in Ridgeville, then?”

“Just visiting.”

“For the first time?”

“Uh, no. I’ve been here before.”

The girl smiled. “I thought so.”

He’d given himself away, Chris knew. By tonight, all the
girls would understand that the story he was telling them was his own. But would they identify Juliet as Jayne?

“My mother will never believe I’m walking through the woods in the snow, looking for a Christmas tree to cut down.” Selena glanced over her shoulder toward Beth and Taryn. “I mean, Yule tree.”

“Right. Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Yeah, I guess they don’t get too many white Yules.”

“Nope. It’s usually sunny and eighty degrees in December.”

“This will be something to remember when you go back.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I can’t go back to L.A., or even California.”

“Why not?”

There was another long pause as they waited for the rest of the crowd to catch up with them at the head of the trail. Selena focused on brushing snow from a nearby pine branch. “I was involved with…a gang. My boyfriend…he said the only way I could leave him would be to die.”

“That’s a tough choice.”

“I didn’t make it.” She glanced at him, and her dark eyes flashed. “My mother had me abducted and brought here. I tried to run away three times that first month.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Three years. Since seventh grade.”

“You changed your mind about the gang.”

She nodded. “Tommy helped me. Along with the other teachers and the counselors and the friends I made. Hawkridge is a good place.”

“Looks like.” The other girls filtered past them and Selena joined the hunt for the perfect tree. Chris didn’t wait for Jayne to catch up with him, but walked on slowly by himself,
enjoying the contrast of sunlight and shadows, bare trunks and pine needles against a dropcloth of snow. Again, he wished he had his camera.

“You must wish you had your camera,” Jayne echoed, coming to stand beside him. “This is supposed to be one of the most beautiful parts of Hawkridge.”

“Supposed to be?”

She folded her arms, gripping her elbows with her hands. “I don’t spend much time here—I’m not very comfortable in the woods. I like the open lawns much better, especially in the snow.”

“You have your fair share of quirks, don’t you?”

She lifted her chin. “No more than anyone else.”

He dismissed her defensive answer with a wave of his hand. “Especially for someone who works with troubled girls, trying to help them adjust.”

Her fists clenched and she let her arms fall to her sides. “Are you implying that I’m unfit to take care of the students?”

“Not at all.” A call from farther along the path summoned them to the “perfect” tree. “Everybody has problems. I think you ignore yours.” Without waiting for a response, he walked toward the cluster of girls.

“It’s The Tree,” Haley announced as he reached them. “We all agree.” They’d used their hands to pull the snow away from its base, revealing the trunk.

Chris tilted his head. “Well, it’s not too tall, but tall enough.” Seven nods ratified his judgment. “A little too thin, do you think?”

The girls disagreed. “It’s slender.”

“Graceful.”

“Elegant.”

“Spiritual.”

He held up a hand. “Got it. Well, if this is your choice, then I’ll start chopping. Everybody step ten paces backward without bumping into anything.”

When the girls were at a safe distance, Chris grasped the ax handle, then brought the heavy head back to his shoulder. He took a breath, lifted his elbows and rotated his hips as he started the arc of the cut. The blade swung within an inch of his cheekbone, taking on a momentum of its own.

A voice cried, “No! Wait!”

Chris couldn’t stop the swing. But he managed to bury the blade in the snow and dirt in front of the tree, slicing off a few branch tips in the process. And not, luckily, his toes.

He rounded on the girls. “Who the hell yelled at me? Are you crazy?”

Jayne stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the guilty party. “Never use that tone with my students. Do you understand?”

He’d meant to apologize. Instead, he glared back at her. “A trick like that could have cost me a leg.”

“It wasn’t a trick.”

“Just a damn stupid thing to do.”

“Watch your language.”

“I’ll say what I please.”

Sarah’s soft voice entered the tense silence. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hammond. I thought we should ask Ms. Thomas if this tree would be okay. Before you cut it down.”

As his heart rate slowed, his temper cooled. He took a step backward, physically and mentally. “And I’m sorry I yelled, Sarah. But for a second there, I saw my toes hopping off in all different directions.”

Jayne blew out a short breath that sounded like a snort. “Excellent. Everyone has apologized. And that tree is fine.
Now, the rest of you can go off in twos or threes to gather whatever else you want. I brought along clippers and plastic bags. Let’s leave Mr. Hammond…to his chopping.” She said his name in a crisp tone.

The crowd dispersed, with Jayne following. Chris cut down the tree with a few strategic blows and pulled it trunk first to the trail for the hike back. From his slight uphill position he could see three groups of girls in bright-colored coats inspecting holly trees, cedars and pines for the greenery they wanted. The one person he couldn’t see was their fearless—or not so fearless but certainly gutsy—leader.

“Look, mistletoe!”

He glanced over to where Haley pointed up into the bare branches above their heads. No one would be able to climb that high. When he reached them, he said so.

“I like climbing tress,” Haley insisted. “I could do it.”

“With a sprained wrist?” Chris nodded at the sling she’d been taking advantage of to get out of chores.

“Well…” He could see her thinking quickly. “I guess not.” She gasped and looked at Chris. “You can climb trees, can’t you?”

“Not that high.”

Taryn took up her friend’s cause. “Oh, please. Mistletoe is so important to us pagans!”

Frowning, he shook his head. “Find some closer to the ground.” Then he went back to the trail to find Jayne.

The snow wasn’t as deep under the trees as on the bare lawn, but moving around still took effort. Jayne’s track lay ahead of him—the deep wells of her steps and between them the shallower brush of each foot, pushing aside the snow. She’d followed the trail, more or less, though occasionally she’d wandered to one side or the other, once where a per
fectly circular bird’s nest had fallen out of the tree above, and another time where a spray of golden autumn leaves still shivered on a small branch.

Then she’d veered from the path altogether, wandering down a steeper slope, through a grove of hardwood trees growing close together, their trunks forming straight black lines between snow and sky.

Pausing at the edge of the grove, he called again, at the top of his voice. “Jayne? Jayne, what the hell are you doing?”

She didn’t answer and he forged on, seriously worried.

The girls heard his shout and came to join him.

Beth arrived first. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Ms. Thomas wouldn’t wander away in the snow,” Sarah fretted.

“She hates snow.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t like the woods, either.”

“Yeah.”

“Is she okay, Mr. Hammond? Have you found her?”

“No.” Reclaiming those climbing skills from the past, he crawled onto the wide trunk of a nearby fallen tree to get a wider view. “Wait. What’s that?” Dark blue cloth and a streak of mahogany hair lay farther down the hill. He called Jayne’s name again, but got no answer.

Back down in the snow again, he pinned each girl with his fiercest stare. “Do not. Leave. This place. I can’t rescue all of you.”

Sarah stepped forward from the group. “We won’t follow or turn back. We’ll stay right here. Go get her.”

He descended the slope as fast as he could, stumbling, falling several times, dodging trees and stumps and fighting the suffocating snow. “Jayne?”

There she was, lying facedown beside a huge tree stump
on the opposite edge of a slight depression. Chris tried to hurry, tried to keep his head up, his eyes on Jayne.

But his foot caught and he fell forward, stretching his arms out, expecting a faceful of the white stuff.

Instead he dropped through the snow, and into a thick tunnel of thorn bushes underneath. The skin of his face tore going in, and tore again in different places as he reared up.

“Jayne!” She was less than ten feet away.

Her arm moved and she turned her head to the side.

Then he saw the bloody snow.

He floundered through the ditch they’d both tripped into, and sank to his knees beside her. Her face was turned away from him.

“Don’t move, honey, don’t move.” He panted, unable to catch his breath. “Just lie still. Let me check you out.” Stripping off his gloves, he felt over her arms and legs and slipped a cold bare hand under her jacket to explore her ribs and shoulders. “Can you feel your feet? Your fingers?”

She wiggled her fingers and flexed her feet as an answer.

“Knees? Elbows?” Her limbs seemed to work. “Okay, honey, I’m going to put my hand at the back of your neck. Can you roll to your side? I’ll help you—just push yourself over. Good.”

Lying on her side, she curled her arms into her chest and groaned. He gave her several minutes to recover.

“Now, honey, I’d like you to roll the rest of the way over. Don’t work too hard. I’ve got your head in my hand. Yeah, that’s right…just sink backward.” Still cradling her arms to her chest, she eased onto her back.

“Oh, Jesus,” Chris breathed. “You hit your face, sweetheart. Right on that big fat stump.”

“I did?” She’d kept her eyes closed since help arrived, but now she lifted her lids, trying to see. Black fog hovered at the
edges of her vision as she focused on the man bending over her. Did she know him? Loose, waving brown hair, bright blue eyes, that sexy mouth—

“Chris?” Surging up, she grabbed his shoulders, making sure he was real. “Chris, are you okay? What happened? We started sliding and then the headlights pointed down…I heard trees breaking. Where’s the car?” She broke free of his gaze and looked around, then back into his face. “I don’t understand. Where are we? What’s going on?”

“Juliet?” he said in a strangled voice.

A black tide poured into her head. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear or feel. She sagged to the side, as everything started to spin….

Hands took hold of her. A man said, “I’ve got you.”

Suddenly, her vision returned. Her eyes were open and she could see Chris Hammond leaning over her with panic in his eyes.

Jayne blinked hard. “Chris? What’s happened?” He protested, but she ignored him and sat up, putting her back against the tree stump she’d seen just before she hit it. Her face ached. “That’s right—I tripped, and I couldn’t stop the fall. I must look awful.”

She pressed gentle fingers to her forehead and nose, feeling a wide expanse of broken skin and swelling. “Oh, I am a mess.” Scooping up some of the damn snow in both hands, she cupped it against her injuries. “Are the girls okay?”

“They’re fine.” His voice still sounded strained.

“Is there anything I can do to look less frightening?”

“Don’t think so.”

Jayne laid her hands in her lap and took a good look at Chris’s face. “You’re all cut up, too. I’m so sorry.”

He drew a deep breath and sat back on his haunches. “Why
did you leave the trail? What in the world are you doing this far into the woods?”

Using her hands and feet, Jayne moved backward and up, so she could sit on the stump’s flat top. She didn’t want to think about those confusing minutes on the trail, the echoes of her dreams, the feeling that she’d been there before.

“I heard Taryn say she wanted mistletoe. I thought I saw some close to the ground.” She tried to twist at the waist to point out her find, and got a taste of how sore her muscles were going to be. “Ow. It’s there.” She cocked a thumb over her shoulder. “Behind me.”

Chris’s gaze didn’t search out the mistletoe. “You must have hit your head pretty hard. What do you remember after you fell?”

“Um…nothing,” Jayne realized with surprise. “I saw the mistletoe and took a step toward it, then I was falling…and just now I woke up.”

His eyes narrowed. “You remember waking up?”

“With you leaning over me.” When he continued to stare at her, she frowned at him. “What’s wrong? Did something else happen?”

He drew a deep breath, then blew it out again. “No. Nothing. I guess.” He put both hands on one knee and straightened up, then reached out to her. “We’d better get back to the girls. I told them not to move from that spot and Sarah promised they wouldn’t.”

Jayne gave him her hand and he started pulling her to her feet. But when her full weight came to bear on her right leg, she gasped and sat down again. “I think I hurt my knee. Why don’t you bring them here so they can get the mistletoe? Maybe by then I’ll feel like walking home.”

Chris started to say something, then turned to go back to
the trail. In a few minutes the girls surrounded Jayne, exclaiming over her face. When she told them about the mistletoe, Haley and Monique trudged off and returned with a bagful.