The Christmas Catch (2 page)

“Oh, no.”

“You need to stay on this road for about five more miles
then turn right at the fork. From there, you can follow the signs toward town.
You got enough gas to help you along?”

Christine nodded, feeling her tension ease. Things would be
all right, wouldn’t they? It hadn’t even been snowing when she’d picked up the
SUV. Surely they were caught up in a sudden burst of storm that would abate in
a short while.

 
The man stepped
back and surveyed her vehicle with a shrill whistle.

“Looks like that front tire’s wedged in pretty deep.”

Her previous panic regained steam. “We’re stuck here, aren’t
we?”

“Not for long,” he said with a grin. “Lucky for you, I carry
a chain in my truck.”

Christine blinked hard, trying to gather her thoughts. She
didn’t even know this guy, but still, when he looked at her, her silly heart
went all a-flutter. Ellen was right. She’d been out of the scene so long she’d lost
her ability to cope. She apparently couldn’t even make casual conversation with
an attractive man without assessing his age and availability. Not that she was
in the market, or anything like that. For all she knew, Mr. Good Samaritan and
his trusty dog were taken. Though it was impossible to know about a wedding
band, given the sensible gloves on his hands. Christine gasped when she
realized that she’d been checking.
 

“Just hold it nice and steady!” he called through the
howling winds. “I’m going to pull up ahead of you. Then, once you get going,
I’ll let the chain drop. Whatever you do, keep your eyes on the road—and
don’t stop!”

Christine’s heart hammered against her chest as she gripped
the wheel. How nutty could she be? She was here to rebuild things with Tyler,
not to find some fly-by-night romance for herself. She didn’t even believe in
romance anymore. She’d already had the romance of a lifetime with Tyler’s dad,
and he’d left her with responsibilities. At the moment, her number one priority
lay in getting her son to safety.

“Get ready now!” the man shouted. “On three! One… Two…”

“Mommy, I gotta pee,” Tyler interjected.

“Not now, baby. Just hold it.”

“Three!”

At once, the front of their vehicle was airborne and
Christine feared they’d careen off the road. Then the pickup moved ahead at a gradual
pace until her fishtailing SUV centered itself on the road. Sweat beaded her brow
as Christine muttered prayers under her breath. Finally, they were moving forward,
going straight as an arrow down the narrow road. The pickup slowed, pulling
onto the shoulder to let her pass. The heavy chain dropped to the snowy lane. Christine
glanced in her rearview mirror as the man scurried out of his truck to scoop it
off the road, his tail-wagging dog behind him.

“Who was that?” Tyler asked, as the pickup faded from sight.

Christine heaved a grateful sigh. “Our guardian angel.”

John sat in his truck with Mason, watching the beautiful
woman and her son disappear through the snowdrifts. The kid was cute enough,
but it was the mom who’d held his attention. What with those big, dark eyes and
that long brown hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, it would be
impossible for a man not to notice. Still, it was nonsensical that he’d paid
attention to her looks. It wasn’t like he’d consider dating someone that
homicidal behind the wheel. Besides, where there was a boy, there was bound to
be a father. John was nowhere near interested in getting tangled up in that. He
had his fair share of picks in Burlington, and had always steered clear of
single mothers. He wasn’t even sure he had room for a woman in his life. At
this point in his career, a full-blown family was a nonstarter. If she was
still married to the boy’s dad, that was even worse. John wouldn’t be touching
that with a twenty-foot pole.

John pushed back his parka hood and shook his head,
attempting to clear it. Maybe the December air had gotten to him, because here
he was, thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts about a woman he didn’t even know.
From the way she’d been totally thrown by the landscape and the tags on the
rental SUV, she wasn’t a local resident anyhow, just someone passing through.
Chances of seeing her around were minimal. But what did that matter to him? The
most important thing was that she and her son got to where they were going
without running
themselves
—or anyone else—off
the road again.

“What did you think, old boy?” he asked, patting the
retriever’s head.

The dog barked loudly.

“Yeah, they seemed like city slickers to me, too.”

Christine pulled the SUV to the side of the road and double-checked
the address. Just ahead of them sat a classic farmhouse nestled in a snowy
field behind a split-rail fence. She stepped into the biting cold to wipe the
snow off of the sign dangling from a post at the head of the drive. WINTERHAVEN
appeared in stenciled lettering. Winds whipped up as Christine battled her way
back to the SUV, shielding her face with her coat sleeve. She clambered into
the driver’s seat with a shiver and cranked up the heat another notch.

“Looks like we’re home,” she said softly to Tyler, who
snoozed in his car seat. They’d paused for a potty break ten miles earlier then
he’d promptly passed out from exhaustion. Not even the chill of the wind on his
face woke him up as she carried him toward the house.

Moments later, Christine carted her sleeping boy over the
threshold of the old-style structure. The great room was cozy yet elegant, with
exposed wood beams and a large stone hearth. A fire had been laid for them in
advance, a neat stack of logs and extra kindling sticks piled in a box nearby.

“Nice,” Christine said to herself.

She decided to let Tyler rest on the sofa while she settled
in. After laying him down and covering him with a handy throw blanket, she
perused the rest of the place. The kitchen was expansive and well equipped, and
the three bedrooms upstairs were every bit as comfortable, with four-poster
beds and huge down comforters. From each window, visions of a winter wonderland
beckoned her to run outside and play. Christine felt her inner child delight in
the thought of making snowmen and snow angels, then racing indoors to hot cocoa
and homemade cookies. Maybe Ellen was more right about this trip than she knew.
A fresh change in scenery and limited interruptions could set just the right
stage for quality Mommy and Tyler time.

A little while later, Christine sat at the large farm table
near the front of the great room sipping her coffee and studying directions to
the local market. Tyler stirred, then sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning.

“Where are we?” he asked, clutching Jasper.

“Winterhaven.”

“Huh?”

“It’s where we’re staying, baby. What do you think?”

He looked around, still a little dazed.

“Where’s the TV?”

“I don’t think there is one.”

His small lips pulled into a pout.

“What’s there to do?”

“Plenty! There are puzzles over there in the cupboard.
Legos, Lincoln Logs…”

“Lincoln who?” he asked, astounded.

“I’ll show you, honey. It’s fun.”

Unconvinced, Tyler scooped his little backpack off the floor
and extracted a portable video game. Next, he dug out its charger, settling
back on the sofa to survey the surrounding lamps. “Least there’s ’lectricity.”

Christine studied her son, thinking he was a tad too modern
for his own good. She had to admit, though, that even she’d forgotten about old-fashioned
fun stuff like roasting marshmallows until she’d walked in here. “You hungry?”
she queried, thinking he must be.

Dark eyes lit up. “Deep-dish Chicago pizza?”

“Not here.”

“Oh,” he said, disappointed.

Christine folded the map in her hands, noting the snow had
stopped outside. It was likely a temporarily lull in the weather. Best to take
advantage while they could.

“I was just reading about the local market. I’m not sure if
they’ll have pizza, but they’re bound to have provisions. How about you and I
head over there and check it out?”

Chapter Three

Christine halted her brimming shopping cart in the aisle as
Tyler dropped in a huge bag of marshmallows. They were at Mac’s Market, the
sole grocers in the tiny village on the outskirts of Burlington. Already they
had chocolate bars and graham crackers. Their list was nearly complete. “Can’t
forget the cocoa,” she said, smiling at her son. She reached for it but it was
high on a shelf, all the way to the back.

“Here, let me help with that,” a familiar masculine voice
said over her shoulder.

Christine heard a happy bark and turned to find the man from
the road behind her. He wore winter boots, jeans, and a gray college sweatshirt
beneath his open parka. Up close and personal, he looked even better than he
had outdoors, his short dark hair and ruddy complexion a heady complement to
his eyes.

“Well, hello,” he said with a smile. Mason wriggled on his
haunches beside him, wagging his tail. Tyler stared up at the guy and his jaw
dropped.

“Are you really an angel?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Mommy says you’re an angel.”

Christine felt her face flush. “Oh no, I think he
misunderstood. I was just… What I mean is…” She glanced down at Mason, then up
at him, amazed. “They let dogs in here?”

The man leaned forward with a confidential whisper. “He
doesn’t know he’s a dog. He thinks he’s a college student.”

Why did the mention of college spark some vague recognition?
Christine’s eyes locked on his sweatshirt. “Carolina?” she asked with surprise.

“The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,” he said
with pride.

“No way.”

“Way.”

“You went there?”

“Most certainly did.”

“Small world.”

“And you?”

She looked at him and smiled. “I know why the sky’s Carolina
blue.”

“God’s a Tar Heel,” he said with a laugh.

Tyler studied him with awe. “I thought you might know God.”

The man eyed Tyler curiously. “Here,” he said to Christine,
“let me help you with that cocoa.” He reached for it and easily took it from
the shelf, handing it to her. She accepted it, inexplicably spellbound as his
blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

“You know, I never got the chance to thank you for our
daring rescue.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so daring,” he said.

“We could have been stuck there for hours.”

“How’s the SUV holding up?”

“As long as I stay on the road it works like a charm.”

They shared a bout of companionable laughter,
then
stood there staring at each other as if each wanted to
speak but neither could think up anything to say.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Christine offered
awkwardly. “We’d best finish up. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course.”

John thoughtfully watched them walk away, feeling an
unfamiliar tug in his chest. She was just some girl from Carolina. So what if
she’d wound up in Vermont? That didn’t mean she’d be interested, and certainly
didn’t indicate she was available. Mason stood beside him, itching to follow
after the woman and her son. How come his dog always knew things he didn’t?

“You know I was thinking,” John called out.

She turned on her heels, her cheeks flushed.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

“You were?”

“I mean, I meant to tell you... wanted to say, it was really
great running into you.”

Boy, was she a looker with those big, dark eyes and neatly
compact figure. She was even prettier than he’d given her credit for in the
SUV.

“Yeah, you too. But, you know, I was wondering…” Mason
interjected a happy bark, not wanting to be left out. “My dog and I were
wondering… what’s a Carolina girl like you doing all the way up here?”

“I’m a Chicago girl now,” she said, taking her son’s hand.

“The question stands.”

“We’re house-sitting for a friend,” she said with a sweet
smile. “And you?”

John shifted on his feet, feeling as if she were assessing
him. He’d probably forgotten to shave or something. “I teach over at the
college.” He mentally kicked himself for the one little detail that had slipped
his mind. “My apologies,” he said extending his hand. “I never introduced
myself. I’m John Steadman.”

She stepped forward to accept his grip and John caught a
whiff of her perfume. She smelled all sweet and womanly, like a field full of
wildflowers in summertime.

“Christine White. Nice to meet you.”

Soulful dark eyes met his and John felt the back of his neck
flash hot. There was a tug at his sleeve and John looked down.

“I’m Tyler!” the little boy said, bouncing on his heels.

John kneeled to greet him at eye level, man to man.

“Good to know ya, little fellow,” he said, firmly shaking
Tyler’s hand. “You taking good care of your mom?”

Tyler nodded solemnly and John chuckled.

“Well, keep up the good work!”

Mason held up a paw in Tyler’s direction. John glanced at
Christine for her approval, got it,
then
looked at the
boy. “Seems like Mason wants to shake hands, too.”

Ten minutes later, they stood in the snow outside the rental
SUV where John had helped load groceries in the back. While it had been fun
running into them, John didn’t have the nerve to suggest seeing them again.
What kind of sense would that make? Christine and Tyler were bound to have made
their own vacation plans, and John had plenty to take care of too.

“You and Tyler take care, Christine,” John said, waving good-bye.

“Thanks, you too,” she said through her open window. Tyler
raised a mitten and called good-bye to the dog as they backed out and slowly
pulled away.