Love Finds You in Frost Minnesota (12 page)

Merry wished the woman would continue but sensed that Greta’s mother had already said more than she’d meant to. Her heart ached for the young woman who’d already suffered so much. What else had Stephanie endured?

Jack, Stephanie, Hildy—they all had secrets they were reluctant to share.

Merry’s attention drifted to the conversation Jack was having with Greta. She had to admit he was a great sport about Greta’s fascination with him.

“He also likes to play tricks on people,” Jack was saying, referring to his namesake, “like cold toes and fingers. Have you ever had those?”

“Oh yes.” The child’s eyes were big as the moon. “You did that?”

Merry smiled to herself and cuddled deep beneath her blanket.

The crunch of the snow under the runners of the sleigh, the jingle of bells, and the soft sounds of the horses lulled them all into a tranquil silence.

About thirty minutes into the ride, Merry struggled to her feet and moved toward Jeff on the driver’s seat.

“How’s it going?”

“Good.” He looked down at her with a smile. “Do you want to hike up here with me?”

Merry didn’t see Jack staring at her in the darkness or the expression of displeasure on his features as she scrambled onto the seat beside Jeff.

“That’s more like it,” he said, pleasure in his voice. “You know I always like it best when you’re by my side.”

“Sweet talk won’t get you anywhere with me,” Merry informed him cheerily as she grabbed a blanket and put it over her knees.

“Tell me about it.” Jeff’s voice was warm, throaty, and intimate, as if they were alone in the world. “What
will
get to you, Merry? I’ve tried everything I know.”

“Be my friend.”

“I am your friend.”

“Good!” she said delightedly. “Because, if you are my friend, you won’t pursue this conversation any longer. Right?”

Jeff groaned but then leaned over and kissed Merry’s cheek. “Okay, keep playing hard to get. I’m a patient man.”

They rode in silence until she abruptly lifted her hands to the sky. “Look at all the stars! How amazing it is! It’s like the Bible says, ‘He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good.’ Neat, huh?”

Jeff was too busy to answer. He directed the horses to stop, jumped down, held out his hands to Merry, lifted her off the seat, and planted her on the snowy ground.

The others stood up, curious, and looked around.

Jeff quickly lit the campfire he’d apparently built earlier and began helping the others to the ground.

There were split logs in a circle around the fire, a stash of sticks peeled and pointed on one end for marshmallows, and a red-and-white cooler on the ground.

Greta ran around the log circle squealing with delight. “A bonfire! A bonfire!”

She came up to Merry. “I’ve heard of a bonfire, Miss Merry, and I saw a picture, but I never thought I’d get to see a real one!”

“Sometimes the simple things are the best.” Merry started at the sound of Jack’s voice in her ear.

“Yes. Greta reminds me of that all the time. I’ll never take a bonfire for granted again.” Merry smiled up into his eyes and noticed the tender expression on his face. Feeling a little off-center at his look, she added, “You can be the first to help Greta roast a marshmallow. She adores you, you know.”

“
Adore
is a pretty strong word, but I will agree she
likes
me.” He chuckled as if recognizing the irony in his next statement. “Of course, who wouldn’t? I’m a winter celebrity around here.” Then he reached for one of the sticks and took a marshmallow out of the bag Jeff was passing around.

While he and Greta roasted marshmallows, Merry stood back, evaluating her feelings.

She liked Jeff. She really did. But she was also cautious because she knew herself too well. What she loved was the idea of family, kids, relatives, relationships. If she were honest, she loved that idea more than any of the men she had dated. She couldn’t rush into marriage just for the family unit it would bring.

The man she married had to be the most important thing. Until she could trust herself to discern that she was in love for love’s sake and nothing else, would she settle down? Jeff’s family was big, rowdy, and fun. But was that enough reason to marry Jeff? Hardly. Only time would help her sort out her feelings for him or for any of the men who currently pursued her.

It was all too complicated.
She
was all too complicated. Until someone came along and was willing to sort this out with her, she would remain single.

Then she realized that several people were yelling just outside the ring of light thrown by the fire. She hurried over to find Greta and Jack making huge wet snow angels, their arms and legs spreading and closing gracefully, creating the look of bodies with full skirts and wings on the pristine palette of snow.

Merry wondered if that counted as a miracle, Jack playing in the snow with the child. He’d as much as said he didn’t even
like
fun. Yet here he was, having plenty.

“Miss Merry, come and make a snow angel!” Greta called.

Impulsively, Merry dropped to the ground beside Greta and began to move her arms and legs in graceful arcs. Their laughter capped the festive mood.

Greta and Jack rolled a snowman while Merry set out the food, and after they’d eaten, Jeff brought out his guitar and they began to sing Christmas carols. Pastor Ed’s low, rumbly voice led them. Stephanie had a sweet, clear soprano, and the others followed along.

Jack didn’t even issue a complaint.

He was a different man tonight, Merry observed. For once he’d let down his guard and allowed himself to actually enjoy the music. He was even smiling, which warmed her heart. No one should spend his or her life in such emotional pain. If only there were some way she could help . . .

The ride home was quiet, each pondering the evening, deep in their own thoughts. Greta immediately fell asleep on her mother’s lap. Merry found herself beside Jack. She was enormously gratified by the way things had turned out and grateful to Jack that he’d made the evening so much fun for Greta. He wasn’t such a bad guy, just a little skittish about the holidays. Not that she could blame him. She had her own childhood issues about the season—and she hadn’t lost a twin brother.

Her guests dispersed immediately upon returning to the boutique.

“All that fresh air wore us out,” Pastor Ed announced as his wife yawned. “We’ll all sleep well tonight.”

Even Jeff was tired and eager to get his team home, so he departed with the rest of them. That left Jack and Merry on the top step waving good-bye to the group.

“Thanks for bullying me into going, Merry. It was more fun than I expected,” Jack said.

“You’re welcome. Greta is crazy about you.”

“Sweet little girl. Nice parents. Too bad they’ve had so much trouble.” He studied her face in the moonlight. “And it was very thoughtful of you to plan an outing with them in mind. You’re very considerate, Merry.” He wore just a hint of a smile. “I like that in a woman.”

And he disappeared into the house, leaving Merry on the step staring after him in stunned surprise.

Chapter Twelve

• • • • • • • • • • • •

It was ten o’clock and Jack hadn’t come down for breakfast. Merry was glad she’d decided on French toast this morning. Anything else would have been burned to a crisp by now. She put the orange juice back into the refrigerator, wiped the already clean countertops, and put a jug of apple cider and spices on to heat for the afternoon customers. Still no Jack.

Maybe he hadn’t planned to go to Blue Earth today and just forgot to tell her.

But Jack never forgot anything. His mind was like the proverbial steel trap. It was also part of his problem. He still remembered every detail of his brother’s death, unable to erase it from his mind. The story was fresh every day for Jack, and he’d been living with that all his life.

At eleven, Merry decided to take matters into her own hands. Surely the man wouldn’t sleep for more than twelve hours . . . would he?

She straightened out her Christmas moose sweater and brushed the front of her green corduroys, pushed her pale hair behind her ears, and pulled back her shoulders. Mind made up, she headed for the second floor bedroom where Jack slept.

She raised her hand to knock on his door, but before she could, she heard a rough, grating cough inside the room. Merry tested the doorknob. Unlocked. “Jack?” she ventured. Another cough. She pushed the door ajar.

“It’s Merry. Can I bring your breakfast up to you? It will be noon soon, and I imagine you want to get to Blue Earth.”

Jack mumbled something that sounded like “water.”

“Excuse me, but I didn’t quite get what you said. Did you want water? I can bring up some cold bottles if . . .” She pushed open the door and came to a complete stop.

Jack was still in bed. Every blanket, throw, and coverlet in the room was piled on top of him, the fireplace was roaring, and when she checked the thermostat, it was set on eighty-five degrees.

Always so put together and unruffled, this was a new Jack. His hair was sleep tousled, his face flushed, and his forehead beaded with sweat.

Her substantial nurturing instincts coming to the fore, Merry crossed the room and put her hand on his forehead. He was burning up. And despite the stiflingly hot room and heaps of covers, he was also shivering uncontrollably.

When she touched his cheek, he opened his eyes. “Sick,” he muttered, stating what was already supremely obvious to Merry.

She hurried into the bathroom and began to run cold water in the sink. When she’d soaked a washcloth in the icy water, rung it out, and picked up a container of bottled water, she returned to Jack’s bedside. She laid the cold rag on his forehead and he winced slightly, as if the cold pained him. Then she opened the water bottle and, with her hand supporting his shoulders, made him drink.

She felt like she’d touched a hot fireplace poker as she withdrew her arm. He must have a temperature of at least 104.

“I’m going to call my doctor,” she announced in the direction of the bed.

“I just need some sleep.”

“If your temperature gets any higher, you’re going to need the fire department. In fact, that might be a good idea. I’m going to call the ambulance.”

“No!”

“Then I’ll take you to the clinic.” She said it firmly, not believing for a minute that the man could even stand up.

There was nothing but a groan from the bed.

Merry marched down the stairs and called the clinic.

“Sounds like he needs to be seen,” the nurse informed Merry. “If he can’t get here on his own, you’ll have to call the ambulance. Do you have a thermometer?”

“Somewhere. I can dig it out.”

“Take his temperature and call me back.”

“Okay,” Merry said hesitantly. The woman might as well have said to wake a grizzly bear from hibernation and stick a thermometer in its mouth.

It took her several minutes to unearth the thermometer. When she returned to Jack’s room, she was surprised to see him sitting on the bed. He’d dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt but his feet were bare. He was sweating profusely, as if the labor of getting dressed had taken every ounce of his strength.

And it probably had, Merry thought. Jack looked, as her mother used to say, “like death warmed over.”

“What’s this? You’re up.”

“I’m not going anywhere in an ambulance.” His voice was low and throaty, and it sounded as if it hurt him to talk.

“Then you’ll let me take you to the doctor?”

“I told you, I just need more sleep.”

She brandished the thermometer in his face. “We’ll do this. If your temp is under 102 degrees, you can stay here. If it’s more, we go to the doctor. Now open up.”

* * * * *

“Your thermometer has to be wrong,” Jack muttered as they drove toward Blue Earth. He was perspiring again but still shivering. She’d warmed up the car, given him three blankets to put over his legs, and insisted on his bundling up like a child going outside to build a snowman.

Thankfully the exertion of getting dressed and into the car had worn him out, and he fell asleep almost immediately. She knew he would have complained for eleven and a half miles if he were awake. She glanced over at him and smiled. In repose, he looked younger, and she could imagine the little boy that he’d been. Without the tension of responsibilities showing on his features, he was incredibly handsome, so unlike the legend of Jack Frost, the imaginary sprite that had managed to haunt him his entire life.

His lips were parted, his features flushed, and his long dark eyelashes fanned out from his closed eyes. Merry’s heart jolted unexpectedly at the affection she felt for him. To her dismay, she realized she also felt a less welcome emotion—attraction.

That would have to stop. He was a transient guest in her home and a potential source of pain and trouble for a number of people she counted as friends. There could be nothing serious between them. They were on opposite sides of the fence over what should happen to Frost . . . and Christmas.

They needed a wheelchair to get him into the clinic because Jack’s knees kept buckling when he walked, and he was immediately put in an examination room.

“Stay with him till the doctor comes in, okay?” the middle-aged nurse with a compassionate smile said. “I don’t want him passing out and hurting himself.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jack muttered, but he also didn’t tell Merry to leave the room.

When the doctor arrived, Merry stood up to leave. She felt Jack’s hand on her arm. “Stay.”

She dropped back into her chair, surprised by his request.

Dr. Henderson was a brisk, efficient, and dedicated physician. It didn’t take him long to make his assessment of Jack. “We’ll do x-rays, but my guess is he has double pneumonia and a nasty virus going on. In fact, we can do the x-rays in the hospital once we admit him. I’ll put him on some . . .” Henderson began doctor-speak about medications and their dosages.