He nodded.
“So can I tell you something before we go to sleep?”
“Sure.”
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
His smile was instant and full, and she thought, pretty damn self-satisfied. But he didn’t return the compliment. He was probably afraid to, afraid she’d read too much into it if he did. But she wasn’t going to put up with that. She jabbed him in the ribs a little. “You’re supposed to say it was good for you, too, you know.”
He snuggled down beside her. “It—”
His words were interrupted by the roar of a motor, and then a horrible crash and the sound of crunching metal. They both sat up in bed, stunned into immobility for just a second. Then they were scrambling for their clothes, lighting lamps. She ran to the window and looked out to see headlights, and the outline of a flatbed truck at a cockeyed angle off the side of the road, its nose crushed against a tree. The back of it was loaded with something, and covered in a white tarp.
“Oh, no.”
Matthew was pulling on his boots, then his coat. “I’ll see if the driver’s okay.”
“I’ll grab the first aid kit and be right out,” she told him, rushing for her own boots as he headed out the door. “God, who would try to drive in this?”
MATTHEW WAS WORRIED, AND TO BE HONEST, DAMN GLAD of the distraction, as he tromped through a good two feet of snow toward the wreck. Maybe the driver would be unharmed and would shack up with the two of them for the remainder of the storm. Maybe having a third party there would keep him from making any more asinine blunders like the one he’d made tonight.
Sure, Holly said it didn’t have to mean anything. But he’d never met a woman yet who could have sex and not want it to mean something. And yeah, she was different from any woman he’d ever met before. But at the core, women were women.
And she had some kind of effect on him. Because damn, he had never had sex that good. And he never ever talked about that stupid hat. At least he never had, until tonight.
He hoped the driver was okay. And he hoped the guy would stay for a while.
As he neared the truck, the driver’s door opened, and a man clambered out.
“Hey, are you okay?” Matthew called.
“Yeah, fine, fine.” The man walked toward him, shaking his head. “I really thought I could make it through. Should have known better, but hell, tomorrow’s Christmas Eve.”
As he spoke, he zipped up his parka, pulled up the hood, turned to look in the direction he’d been driving. “Well, it’s only another half mile. My place is just around the next bend in the road. Guess I’m hoofing it from here.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Damn straight I’m serious. I’ve got a wife and kids waiting on me.”
“Look, at least wait until daylight. It can’t be more than an hour away,” Matthew said. “If another vehicle comes along, you could end up dead.”
“Matthew’s right,” Holly called. Matt turned to see her hurrying closer, all bundled up from head to toe, her first aid kit in one hand. “Come into the house. We’ve got a warm fire. I’ll make you some hot cocoa, and when it gets light, you can be on your way.”
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I was due in hours ago. She’s gonna be worried.”
“Can you call? We have cell phones,” Holly said.
“I have one, too. Home phones are out, I imagine. I couldn’t get through.” He shook his head. “Nope, I’ve got to go. Like I said, it’s not far now. Too bad about the load, but it’s pretty late to sell ’em now anyway. Still, one of ’em will go to good use.”
He walked around to the back of the truck, untied the canvas, and flipped it back. Matthew smelled pine. And when the driver pulled a Christmas tree, all neatly bundled for travel, off the truck’s bed, he just shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Well, I got a deal on ’em, you see. There’s only a dozen. Lots of folks wait till Christmas Eve to get their trees, so I figured I could turn ’em around for a few dollars’ profit.” He eyed the nose of his truck. “Looks like they ended up costing me more than I thought.” He loosened a string from the tree’s bundled wrappings, used it to make a tow line with which to drag the tree home. A half mile through a blizzard.
“Hey, you folks have a tree yet?”
Holly smiled. “I think we do now,” she said.
“Help yourself. Merry Christmas.” The man turned and walked away, pulling the tree behind him.
Matthew watched him go. Then he heard Holly mutter, “Thanks, Mom.”
He turned to look at her, and then at the truck full of trees, and then at her again. Her smile was as wide and bright as…hell, as a kid’s on Christmas morning. “I told you. First, you have to believe.” She ran through the snow, toward the truck, calling, “Come on, Matthew. Let’s pick the best tree of the bunch!”
Sheila hadn’t wanted to take the hat from Bernie, but sensed it was important to him, to his sense of pride. And besides, it was just exactly what Holly needed. She’d only just reenrolled in school, and landed a role in the holiday play. She was playing a hobo, and this hat was the one missing piece her costume still needed.
So Sheila gave the hat to Holly. And Holly fell in love with it. Maybe, somehow, she felt its magic. At any rate, she never went away from home without it. She even took it with her on that fateful trip back to her childhood home, twelve years later.
Ten
BY THE TIME THE SUN CAME UP, THE TREE WAS STANDING IN the living room in a makeshift tree stand Matthew had constructed from an old pail he’d found in the basement, and was held in place by a few yards of twine.
“Now what?” he asked, surveying his work.
“Now, breakfast. I believe it’s your turn to cook.”
He studied her with his eyebrows raised, then, seeing that she wasn’t kidding, he nodded. “Okay, breakfast it is.”
“There’s a pile of food in the big cooler in the kitchen. I never bothered with the fridge.”
“Is there—dare I hope—coffee?”
“Of course there’s coffee. And luckily, I brought the stovetop percolator.”
“I’m not sure I know how to use it.”
“Then I’ll brew while you cook. Let’s get cracking, we’ve got a ton to do today.”
“We do?” He looked around the place as if in search of all the busywork she had lined up. “Like what?”
“Decorate the tree. Make Christmas dinner. And build a snowman.”
“I was thinking more in terms of shoveling the driveway and cleaning off our cars.”
She stuck out her lower lip. “You’re in that much of a hurry to leave?”
He studied her face, sensing a lapse in her happy-go-lucky, Holly-Golightly mood. “We’re going to have to eventually, Holly. It’s stopped snowing. They’ll probably clear the roads before the day is out.”
She lowered her head, licked her lips, then nodded once. “Well, let’s get on with breakfast then. If we’re going to decorate the tree, make the dinner, build a snowman, clear the driveway, and clean off the cars, we’d better get a move on.”
But the sadness remained in her eyes, despite her bright smile, as she hurried into the kitchen. Dammit, he thought. He knew it. He knew she was going to get all emotional on him, and want more than just a casual encounter. He hated hurting her. It was like kicking a puppy to hurt a bubbly little thing like Holly. But he couldn’t help it.
God, he couldn’t even imagine what else there could be between them. They were completely opposite in every way. Living with that cheerful, positive, upbeat, silver lining kind of attitude in his life would…
He was going to say it would be horrible. But he couldn’t quite tell that big a lie, even to himself.