Onze

 

Leona knelt next to Max and took deep controlled breaths. Slowly, slowly, her breathing returned to normal. With one hand, she held Max and with the other the flashlight, as Cameron worked under the limbs of the fir tree. With each clip of the wire, Max struggled to be free, making Cameron's job more difficult. The fear in the dog’s eyes tore at Leona's heart. She bent close to Max's head, crooking her fingers around his collar and whispering in his ear. The action calmed him enough for Cameron to slice through two of the remaining wires and freeing the dog at last.

She held on to Max’s collar, thwarting his attempt to bolt once freed. Cameron grabbed his collar with his free hand and gave Leona the cutters. She placed them back into her jacket and hiked toward the snowmobile. Once there, she hopped on and slid as far forward as she could. Cameron lifted Max onto the seat and climbed on behind him.

"Ready." She had to raise her voice so Cameron could hear her through the helmet and above the wind.

He pointed toward the top of the trail and shook his finger.

She pulled back on the throttle and climbed back toward the cabin. With the extra weight and pushing uphill against the north wind, their progress was slow. Leona strained to see past the blowing snow reflected in the headlights. When the outline of the cabin came through in the distance, she breathed a sigh of relief and headed toward it. She pulled near the porch, lifted her visor, and turned toward Cameron. "Are we going to head back? Should I leave the engine running?"

"I don't think it's a good idea. Our gas level is pretty low, and with the extra weight from Max and the deep powder, we could get in trouble. We should probably sit tight."

She turned the ignition off. The sound of the wind howling through the trees sent an icy chill through her whole body as she trudged toward the porch steps.

Cameron followed, leading Max by the collar.

Inside, Leona removed her bulky helmet, turned the lantern on, and retrieved the first-aid kit from the duffel.

Cameron released Max and then removed his helmet. "Whew, the temperature is dropping fast." Cameron searched the cabin. "Looks like there's several logs left over from last year. I'll get a fire started." He began clearing the fireplace and setting the logs inside.

"I'll dress Max's wounds." Leona carried the first-aid kit and the lantern to where Max had curled up on the rug next to the bed. She searched for the items she needed and then worked quickly on his wounds and wrapped them in gauze.

The poor pooch, exhausted from his earlier struggle, didn't object. He rested his large head on her knee while she replaced the items in the kit. His yellow/brown eyes watched her closely. She caressed his ear. "There ya go, Max. You're gonna be just fine."

He rewarded her with a lick to her hand.

She went to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for a small bowl. She found one and filled it with water from the bottles they'd put in the duffel.

Max lapped at the water until it stood empty and then curled on the rug again and closed his eyes.

Leona handed Cameron a bottle of water, plopped into the loveseat, and took a long drink from hers.

Before long a soft glow spilled from the fireplace where small flames began to grow.

"Looks like he's ready for sleep." Cameron clapped his hands together to clear the dust and soot from them and winced from the action.

Leona unzipped her thick jacket. "I think he'll be fine. How's your hand?"

"I'm good." He added another log to the budding fire and sat next to Leona. He gulped from the water bottle and then exhaled long and loud. "What a night."

"You can say that again." She rested her head onto the cushion.

He turned toward her and placed his elbow on the back of the seat. "You were amazing tonight. I don't know anyone who could have done what you did especially after only learning to ride a few days ago."

She lifted her head and met his piercing gaze. "Thanks. It was the least I could do considering I was responsible for him running off."

He placed his hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with compassion. "Don't even go there. Max is a young lab. They need to run. He was just doing what dogs do. You had no way of knowing he'd get tangled in that wire. His running off like that could have happened to anyone of us."

What should she say? She knew he was trying to make her feel better. "So I guess we should prepare to spend the night here?"

"That may be our only choice unless this blizzard stops anytime soon. You can take the bed. I'll sleep here on the loveseat."

She followed his gaze toward the bed and out the window where snowflakes danced in random patterns under the porch.

"Don't be silly. Your long legs will spill over on this. I'll fit perfectly." She'd always hated being so short, but tonight her five-foot two-inch frame came in handy. She looked at him and grinned. "Besides it's closer to the fire."

This wasn't what she had in mind for tonight. All she'd wanted was to enjoy the evening, add to her journal, then take a long soak in the deep Jacuzzi tub in her bathroom, followed by a warm cup of tea. Spending the night alone with another woman's boyfriend wasn't her idea of the perfect evening.

 

****

 

Cameron rested his head on his hand while his elbow remained propped on the back of the loveseat. Leona's flattened helmet hair and the rosy highlight of her cheeks was a sight he could never tire of seeing. A tiny strand of her chestnut-colored hair curled near the corner of her left eye. He resisted the urge to push it away. Sitting close to her comforted him.

She'd handled tonight's situation like a pro.

He couldn't imagine what things would have been like had Marissa been the one he had to rely on.

Tonight's conversation with Marissa had gone better than he'd hoped. He knew the timing could have been better. No girl wants to hear, at any time, much less on Christmas Eve, that the guy she's got her sights on is not interested. But the last two times he'd told her, she hadn't seemed to get the message. This time he made sure she understood.

Her words came back to him. “You're a fool, Cameron Fleming. You know how many men would love to be in your shoes right now? Well, I'm not going to beg anyone to be with me. You're the one missing out.” After she spat the words at him, she'd stormed away and began flirting with Bryan.

He hated being so blunt but realized it was the only thing to do. The more subtle approach didn't work with Marissa. He looked at the bandage on his hand. It wasn't long after their conversation that Marissa had bumped into him and cast him into the fire. He smiled at the metaphoric irony.

"What's so funny?" Leona smiled.

He thought his chest would burst. This was the thing he loved about her. When she smiled tiny wrinkles fanned above her cheeks, and her brown eyes looked like amber with sparks of gold.

"Just thinking about the whole night."

"Won't Marissa be looking for you?"

"I doubt it. Women don't usually come looking for a guy who has just told them he's not interested in them for the third time."

Leona's eyes widened. Her mouth opened. She closed it, and then opened it again. "You…and Marissa are not…together anymore?"

He looked directly at her. He wanted to drive the point home—to make her understand that there had never been anything between him and Marissa. "We were never together."

"But…the kiss." Her brows creased and confusion seeped into her eyes.

"That was Marissa trying to get me to visit her bedroom that night. That was all. It ended right there in the hallway. That was the first time I told her I wasn't interested." He gave in and pushed the curl away from her eye and tucked it behind her ear. The rosy blush on her cheeks deepened to a darker shade of red.

"So you two," she shook her head, "were never together. But I thought she came here with you."

"I drove her to the airport in Los Angeles and from the airport in Hayden per Dad's request. She mistook that act of kindness as more."

Leona’s bright eyes reflected the roaring fire warming the small cabin. She turned to him. "I'm glad to hear that."

He laughed. "Really?"

"Really." She smiled.

He cupped her hand in his. "Can I tell you something? From the first day we met I have felt I've known you all my life."

She squeezed his hand while her eyebrows lifted. "Me, too! There's something familiar about you. Chef said you lived in Louisiana. Was it in New Orleans?"

"We lived in the Lakeshore neighborhood."

"You did, did you?" She grinned and examined his face. With a tender touch, she ran her finger along the scar near his right eyebrow. A look of wonder filled her comforting eyes. "You got this when you fell from an oak limb while trying to rescue Mrs. Moreau's white Persian cat."

His jaw dropped. How would she know?

"Georgie. Georgie Fleming. Why did I not see it before?"

"Only two people ever called me Georgie. My best buddy in sixth grade, Everett, and his sister, René." Recognition rushed and slapped him in the face. "René?"

She nodded.

He slapped his leg. "I can't believe it! René Buquet. I remember so vividly the last words you told me when we moved away. Do you remember?"

Her cheeks turned a deeper crimson, redder than he thought possible.