Halos (20 page)

“Did you?”

She shook her head. “I’m not stupid.”

He set her hands into her lap but kept them covered with his. “Could it be someone you know? Someone who followed you with a grudge?”

“The one who ditched me?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She slipped a hand free and pulled the blanket closed around her neck. “If anyone took the trouble to follow me here, that’d be the most attention I’ve had in years.”

Steve sat back on his heels. “But is there anyone at all?”

Alessi shook her head. “I’ve had friends most of my life. The only people who hated me were kids in high school, and they’re all off at their private colleges making something of their lives.” She didn’t say it bitterly, just another case of the way it was. “It’s no one I know.”

He’d have to take her word for that. She didn’t seem to be shivering as badly now, and he would set the alarm. Whoever had soaked her had probably run off and wouldn’t mess with her again that night. And in spite of the fact that she had little more than two outfits and some personal hygiene items, she seemed to consider his storeroom home. “You sure you’ll be okay here?”

“I’d be naïve to say yes, but I swing a mean mailer.” She almost smiled.

He had to admire her spunk. And that spunk was one of the things that made him look to her lips with anticipation. He’d better get moving. “I’ll set the alarm.”

That might be the most he could do in reality, but all night he dreamed of keeping her warm.

Twenty-Seven

S
LESSI WOKE UP SHIVERING from what patchy sleep she’d managed. The dream images were all too fresh; that monsterish head leering at her through the window, the glass shattering as the car burst through on an icy wave that engulfed and stole her breath. She shivered again. Didn’t Steve heat the store? She blew out her breath in a cloud.

Something was wrong. It had not been this cold the other nights. Even the extra blanket was little help. She climbed off the cot, tugging the blanket with her, and shuffled out into the store. Pale daylight spilled in through windows etched with fronds and swirls of ice. Enchanted, Alessi went to the front and studied the designs, such intricate, lacy crystals turning plain glass into magical mirrors. Beautiful!

She could not attribute it to Jack Frost. He always seemed menacing in pictures and poems. This was too beautiful, too wondrous. Angel breath. Angels had breathed on her windows last night; angels watching over, guarding her.

Outside, the wind coughed gusts of snow from roof and street, tossed it against the glass, and she realized the sound had played a part in her dreams, howling and moaning. She pulled the blanket tighter to her throat, but she’d been safe and guarded.
“Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels God will send thee, all through the night.”

She hadn’t thought of her mother’s favorite lullaby in a while, but it came to her so clearly now she could almost hear Mom’s voice. The ceramic tiles chilled her feet, and she went back to the storeroom and flicked the light switch. Nothing. The power must be out. No wonder it was so cold.

She dropped the blanket and dressed, shaking with chill. The black sweater was crisp and cold where she’d hung it, but the beige turtleneck and white mohair would be warm, and she put on the dark green pants and two pairs of socks. Her teeth chattered as she brushed them and washed her face. She used the last of the paper towels.

Was it too early to head over to the house? The wall clock had stopped near three. If it was too early, she could sneak through the kitchen door without waking anyone. Steve’s jacket was damp and frigid but would have to do against the wind. She should have bought gloves at Wal-Mart. She blew on her fingers, then zipped the coat and spun at the sound behind her.

Her heart thumped, but it was only Steve coming through the door. She smiled to cover the panic she was sure he hadn’t missed. “Hi.”

“Good morning.” His breath pooled in the air.

“Is it as early as it looks?”

“Seven-thirty.”

Later than she thought. She was glad she’d dressed and washed up.

“You must be freezing.”

She shivered on cue. “I used the last of the paper towels. Do you have another roll?”

“Forget the paper towels.” He jerked his chin toward the back door. “Let’s get out of here.” He opened the door to a gusting cloud of ice crystals, then closed it again. “It’s nasty out. Here.” He pulled the scarf from his neck and wrapped it around her face.

“Thanks.”

“Ready?” His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, as though it were an adventure. Maybe the weather reminded him of Alaska.

Mush, Alessi, mush
. “I’m ready.”

He opened the door again, ducking his head. “Get in the truck. It’s running.”

With the damp jacket in the wind, she didn’t argue. She ran for the truck and climbed into the cab that was as toasty as a mouse nest in a furnace room. She shook off the cold and basked.

He climbed in behind the wheel and shut the door. “Whew!”

She blew on her fingers. “Is the house warm?”

“Power’s out all over Charity. Wind probably took something down.” He put the truck in gear. “But Ben’s got a kerosene heater.”

“Can’t we light a fire? In your fireplace?”

He pursed his lips. “I guess we could. Hadn’t thought of it.”

“Don’t you use your fireplace?”

He pulled out of the back lot. “We haven’t.”

Alessi dropped her hands to her lap. “I do not understand men.”

He grinned. “I had a wood-burning stove in Anchorage.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“I know how to light a boy-scout pyramid.” He pulled out onto the street.

She laughed. “Do you have any wood?”

“No. But Ben has those prefab logs at the station.”

The gusting snow was blinding. She could see nothing through the windshield. He stopped until it passed, then pulled forward slowly. This snow was not magical. There was a threatening element that chilled her in spite of the cab’s warmth. “Do you think it’ll keep falling?”

“It’s not snowing much. Just blowing what got dumped last night.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“The snow expert.” He caught her knee in his palm, then let go.

Alessi stared at the place as though she’d find a handprint. Every time he’d grabbed her elbow or squeezed her hand it was as though his touch sank inside her. It was strange and scary. People had come and gone in her life like characters in a book. She never shut them out, but she knew not to get attached. Now it seemed Steve left his mark with every brush of his fingers.

He stopped outside the station. “Stay here where it’s warm.”

“Then here.” She took the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his, tucking it into the front of his leather bomber.

“Thanks.” He climbed out and hurried for the station. He unlocked the door and went inside, then made several trips to the truck bed, arms filled with packaged logs. He staggered against the blasts of wind, until he finally got back in with her. “Think that’ll do? It’s all Ben had in stock.”

She laughed. “I think it’ll be plenty.”

He looked at her a long minute before putting the truck in gear and backing away from the station. He pulled around to the house and parked. “Go ahead in. I’ll get the wood.”

“I can help.” The wind caught her breath away with icy malice as she jumped down. It was like a giant frozen respirator blasting in and sucking out. But she hurried around to the bed and loaded up with paper-wrapped logs.

Steve grabbed up half again as many, and they ran for the door. He grappled with the knob, then it was opened from inside.

Dave pulled it wide. “Hey.” He took the logs from her.

Ben stood in the kitchen looking sleepy. “Those from the station?”

“Just cleared your inventory.” Steve went back out for the rest.

“This your idea, Alessi?” Dave said.

She nodded. “I cannot believe you don’t use your fireplace.”

“Got the kerosene heater.” He thumbed toward the heater smelling up the den.

“Mind if we turn it off?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.” He put down her load of logs by the fireplace and ambled over to shut off the heater. “Just hope there’s no nests or anything in the chimney.”

“If there’s a nest, the birds are long gone.”

“Pretty good fire hazard, though.” Dave eyed the opening as though doom awaited.

“Just light the fire, Dave,” Ben called from the kitchen. “I’ll get our Coleman stuff from the closet and make some coffee.”

Alessi clasped herself in her arms. She was thankful to finally be out of the cold. The wind howled in gusts that shook the windows, and she could not imagine angel breath in that. Vicious wolves huffing and puffing and hoping to devour the three little pigs and Goldilocks, but no gentle angel breath.

Steve came in twice with armloads of logs and stacked them along the brick hearth to the side of the fireplace. He pulled open the screened doors and placed a log on the pristine grate. “Anyone have matches?” He looked around the room.

“I’ll fetch ’em,” Ben called from the hall, then appeared with a box of waterproof matches from their camping kit.

In seconds Steve had flames licking around the log. He sang, “Oh, the weather outside is frightful….” He was certainly in a fine mood today. Or the fire had bewitched him.

Dave glanced at his heater ruefully. “Hope the heat doesn’t all go up the chimney.”

Alessi clutched her hands together at her throat, saying nothing, just drinking in the scent and warmth emanating from the neglected orifice. Ben came in with a metal stand that fit over the log and a blue speckled coffeepot, the old-fashioned kind with a percolating insert.
Little House on the Prairie.

Looking around the room at her three friends taking to the idea of a fire in their own fireplace, she bit her lower lip. If the power stayed out for days she wouldn’t mind, she was so warm inside. Last night had been horrible, but it was Christmas Eve, she was with friends, and the magic of the Savior’s birth would soon be upon them. Anything could happen. Anything at all.

Steve backed out of Ben’s way, stopped beside her, and brought his arm around her shoulders. He hadn’t touched her before with Ben and Dave around. They didn’t need the charade. “Do we have a skillet, Ben?”

Still in his crouch, Ben glanced over his shoulder. He took in their linked position but only said, “Yeah. I’ll grab it in a minute.”

Steve turned his head. “Eggs in butter, Alessi?”

Her mouth watered. “Twist my arm.”

Instead he cupped the back of her neck and turned her. “Come on. You can help make them.” He directed her to the kitchen with his hand. It might have been obnoxious, but his touch was warm and gentle.

She restrained her heart and made it behave. She could have frozen last night, but the Lord’s angels had kept her warm, wrapping the store with their wings, breathing onto the glass. The alarm had been worthless, yet no harm had come through the doors, even though dreams of evil had tormented her. There was no evil now.

Steve took out a carton of eggs and a tub of cottage cheese. He pulled a bunch of green onions from the vegetable drawer and closed the door. “Get a bowl from that cabinet next to the sink.”

She did as he said and set a medium-sized bowl on the counter.

He opened the carton. “Know how to crack an egg?”

She nodded.

“Do nine of them.”

They worked together, whisking the eggs with cottage cheese, snipping green onions, seasoning with salt and pepper and a dash of Tabasco. Then Steve brought the mixture to the skillet heating on the fire and dropped a chunk of butter into the pan. When the butter sizzled and bubbled, he poured the eggs into the middle of it. Ben filled mugs of coffee while Steve stirred the eggs. Dave gathered plates and flatware and set them on the hearth, and Alessi felt superfluous.

In moments Steve had filled their plates, and they gathered near the fireplace as Ben offered a blessing. Alessi sat cross-legged with her plate in her lap and took her first bite. Fairy ambrosia … again. The scent of woodsmoke aided the scene in her mind, but this time it was Steve presiding, regal and strong, like one of Tolkien’s elves.

She played the scene out in her mind as they ate in companionable silence. Woodland creatures played flutes and danced, and Steve ordered nectar passed in carved wooden goblets. Then he stood and came to her….

Throat tightening, she sipped her coffee. Those imaginations were dangerous. Steve brought his plate to the sink, breaking the scene. No elf lord, just a man who made great eggs.

She joined him with her own dishes. “Let me wash. I haven’t done anything.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I mean anything to help.”

“So do I.” He started the water in the sink, felt it with his hand. “We’ll need to heat it on the fire.”

The fire she’d thought of. “Isn’t it useful?”

He smiled, shut off the water, and trapped her in the corner of the counter. “Useful, warm, lovely …” His eyes trailed her face. “And it smells a whole lot better than kerosene.”

Ben circled them to set his dishes by the sink, but Steve didn’t move. Alessi glanced past his shoulder and caught Ben’s smile.

He shuffled. “I’ll be heading to Mary’s now, make sure she and the girls are all right.”

Steve said, “Okay.” But still he didn’t move.

Dave pressed in past Ben and put his mug and plate on the counter. “Diana’s got her family coming. She’ll be in a panic with no power. Guess I’ll see what I can do over there.”

Steve didn’t even answer, just kept looking at her. Ben and Dave bundled up and went out. Alessi heard the door close behind them, but the loudest thing was her heart pumping in her ears. The energy between Steve’s chest and her own could supply Charity for days. He didn’t move even after the others were gone, just kept looking at her with his enigmatic eyes.

She drew a shallow breath. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make sense of you.” An almost pained look came into his face.

She wasn’t hurt this time. There was need in him. He was facing hurt he’d stuffed inside too long. She knew how that felt.

He cupped her face. “Tell me you’re real.”