Stranded For Christmas Read online

  “Jemma, Dad,” I mumble as I get up to pull my boots back on. In all the excitement, I now feel frustrated that I forgot the whole reason I was out in this ridiculous storm in the first place.

  “What was that son?” my dad asks gruffly.

  “Her name is Jemma.” I toss the wallet to him and he catches it easily before glancing down.

  “Oh. Well, go get the things your mother needed,” he says in dismissal.

  I love my parents, I do; but even after twelve years in the military and thirty years of life under my belt, I’m still treated like a teenager. This is why I want out of Mount Hope. I want to go live my life like the grown man I am, without my mother doing my laundry, or my father telling me what to do. I trudge back out into the snow, grabbing the boxes of my mothers things. Knocking the snow off my boots, I slide them onto the kitchen counter and move back into the den. They don’t get that I’m not a teenager anymore. I lean back into the chair again, yawning as I stare at the fire. I rest my chin on my fist and simply wait for them to tell me when I can move her into my bedroom.

  Chapter 2

  Jemma

  Squinting my eyes against the bright sunlight, I turn my face into the pillow. Inhaling deeply, I catch an unfamiliar scent.

  What is that?

  Cologne?

  Pushing myself up, I look around.

  What the hell?

  The baby blue walls and masculine furniture is not what I expected when I woke up.

  Um, where the hell am I? What’s the last thing I remember? Did I get drunk last night?

  Running my hands over my face first, I then cover my mouth and try to figure out what exactly is going on and where the hell I am.

  Looking down, I see a gray hoodie and a flannel blanket.

  I don’t own any hoodies.

  Throwing the blanket back, I see blue track pants with yellow lettering up the leg. I close my eyes and throw myself back onto the pillows. The smell of leather and musk surrounds me.

  Again, just where the hell am I?

  I sit back up and look around again for any clues that might help me figure this out. On the nightstand next to me is a photo of a handsome man with an older couple. I feel safe in assuming they are probably his parents.

  Did I pick up some guy on my way to Buffalo?

  Did I stop and get drunk?

  Why are my fingers and toes burning? Tingling?

  Looking down, I can clearly see that they are red and warm to the touch.

  Oh, man this is so strange.

  I spot my purse on the floor next to the bed. Leaving the bed I grab it to amek sure my money, what little I have, is still there. Finding nothing missing, I tiptoe over to the window and pull the curtain back. The ground is covered with snow and a truck sits below the window with piles of the fluffy white stuff almost completely covering it.

  The door behind me creaks open and I turn toward it as an older woman peeks her head in. Her salt and pepper hair is pulled back in a bun on top of her head, her face is round with lines and a kind smile.

  “Oh my, I thought I heard you moving about,” she says, entering the room.

  I suddenly realize that this is the same woman from the photo.

  Oh, how embarrassing. Did I just hook up with her son? Does he live with his parents?

  I feel my face heat with embarrassment.

  “We’re so glad you’re feeling better. Come, let me get you some coffee. Oh dear! Your feet must be cold. Here,” she reaches into the dresser next to her and pulls out a pair of socks.

  I suppress a groan and intensely wish that I could crawl under the bed in mortification.

  This is not happening to me right now! Why didn’t I just fly.

  “Um. Thanks,” I memble, then hesitate.

  How do I admit that I don’t remember her son’s name or even what he looks like? What would she think of me then? It’s Christmas Eve and I’m waking up in some stranger’s clothes, his room and I don’t even know who any of these people are.

  “You poor dear. Here I am rambling,” she reaches out to hand me the socks. “You probably have no clue where you are or what’s going on.”

  She sits on the edge of the bed, patting a spot next to her. I ease myself down next to her and the confusion I felt before intensifies.

  “I’m Beverly Carson; you can call me Bev. My husband, Frank, and I own this place. You’re at the Mount Hope Bed and Breakfast. Our son, Jarrod, found you on the side of the road in the mountains last night. You were almost frozen to death!” She reaches out and takes my hand in her own, and suddenly it all comes back to me. The drive down the mountain, the flat tire, curling up in my pea coat, no cell signal.

  Thank God!

  I didn’t have sex with some stranger.

  “So, I’m assuming I’m okay now?” I ask her, my voice raspy.

  “Yes, dear. Doc Stevens checked you out and you’re fine. You were close to hypothermia, but you’re all good now. We warmed you up, and I don’t want you to worry, because I changed your clothes myself, so none of the men saw anything they shouldn’t. I had Karen, one of our other guests help me dear.”

  Her sweet smile is contagious and I find myself smiling as well. Even though I appreciate how close I was to tragedy, this woman is definitely beginning to have a calming effect on me, and I feel much better about waking in a strange place.

  “Doc will be back later this morning to check on you. How about some warm coffee and oatmeal? I have breakfast started for the other guests.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, slipping the socks on my feet before following her out of the room. I find that the hallway is decorated for the holiday with garland and mistletoe throughout. Tables with bright poinsettias are outside each room.

  “Jarrod insisted you have his room and he slept in the den. When he gets up, I’ll have him call Jonesy about towing your car. What happened to you, dear? What were you doing on the side of the road?

  “I had a flat tire and no cell signal to call for help.”

  “Very few carriers get a signal out there in the mountains. Thankfully, Jarrod has one of those satellite phones or whatever they’re called. He gets a signal no matter what. Don’t worry, I’m sure Jonesy will help out once the roads are cleared. It might be a while, though. That storm last night dropped three feet of snow on us!”

  Damn.

  Or, maybe this is a blessing.

  This is a perfectly legitimate excuse to miss seeing my family for the holiday.

  “Do you have someone you need to call? You can use the phone in my office,” Beverly says to me over her shoulder as we enter the kitchen.

  “I should probably call my father. He’ll be worried. I was supposed to be in Buffalo this morning.”

  “Wow. Buffalo? You’re not even halfway there!” Bev’s face shows her shock at what she must believe was insensitivity on her part as her eyes widen and her cheeks begin to glow a deep red. “I’m sorry. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m sure your family will miss you. We’re a poor substitute for your own family, but I vow to make you feel cheery and as welcome and at home as I can.”

  She pats my back as she gently pushes me past her and into the kitchen. The bright white cupboards are offset by yellow walls. The table is fully decorated for the holidays, just like the rest of the house that I’ve seen so far. It’s like I’d gone off the road and landed in the North Pole.

  “Jarrod sweetie, are you going to call Jonesy for Jemma?”

  A man with a mass of unruly brown hair and broad shoulders is standing in the kitchen with his back to us, and stiffens at the sound of Beverly’s voice.

  “Yes, Mom,” he mumbles, still keeping his back to us.

  I get a sniff of the coffee he’s pouring and my stomach rumbles loudly.

  “Oh dear! Come on now and let’s get you something to eat so you can call your family,” Bev says as she pushes me down into a chair.

  I fidget with my fingers, unsure of what else to do with myself.

 
“Thank you,” I reply faintly.

  I look down at the table cloth and within a few seconds, a cup of steaming coffee appears in front of me. Looking up, I’m met with the iciest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Locks of brown hair fall down his forehead and he pauses, still as a statue. I wrap my fingers around the mug, allowing the warmth to soak into my skin.

  “You look much healthier than when I found you. I thought you were a goner there for a bit.”

  “Thank you so much, I haven’t a clue what happened and I’m afraid I can’t remember much about last night. My tire went flat, but I kept the heat on and I had my jacket..”

  I trail off as his gaze lowers to my lips. My face heats up again and I look away.

  “Could I use a phone now, please? I need to at least let my father know I’m delayed. When do you think I can get to my car?”

  His laughter shook through his whole body as he stood up straight. Turning from me, he moved back to pour a second cup of coffee.

  “Unless the county plows come through early, then Jonesy isn’t going to be able to get to your car until tonight and he most likely won’t be able to get you a new tire until the day after Christmas. Jonesy doesn’t stock a lot of BMW parts. We drive trucks around here.

  “So, I’m stranded for Christmas?”

  Tears threaten to spill, but I fight to keep them from falling. If I’m truly honest with myself, I really don’t mind at all. This will mean I’ll be able to avoid having to deal with my sister and Keaton. I’m sure she’ll find a way to make it all about herself though, and the pity for poor little Jessa will flow. That doesn’t make it hurt any less. Your parents are supposed to be those who love you the most, who are there for you, who take your side. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have that type of family. Sighing, I look up and find Beverly leaning against the counter, her kind eyes open wide with worry.

  “Oh, that’s so sad. I promise you, darling, we’ll make sure you have a wonderful Christmas and then get you back on the road to your family.”

  A giggle bursts past my lips before I can stop it.

  “No, no, it’s okay. Really. Is there a hotel in town where I can stay? I’d much rather prefer not going home anyway. I’m almost sure this was a sign that I’m just not ready for the drama that’s waiting there for me. I guarantee that two days alone in a hotel room, possibly with some liquor, will be much better than what’s waiting for me in Buffalo.”

  Beverly pulls back in shock, Jarrod just snickers.

  “Your family that bad?” he asks me, humor brightening his eyes even more.

  “You have no idea,” I whisper as I sip on the warm black liquid.

  “Absolutely not! I won’t hear of it. Jarrod, you can stay in the den for two more nights, right? We can’t send you out there, Jemma. The whole town is booked for the festival today and I just wouldn’t hear of you staying anywhere else.”

  Jarrod groans at this and I shake my head no.

  “I couldn’t put you out any more than I already have. Really, Beverly. That’s very kind of you, but Jarrod saved my life and I wouldn’t feel right about kicking him out of his own room again for even one more night.”

  “Phone’s this way,” Jarrod says abrupty as he walks out of the kitchen, but pauses just outside the doorway for me to follow. Without a word, I stand and go toward him, leaving my coffee and Beverly behind.

  Leaving me alone in the den to make my call in private, I watch as Jarrod disappears back through the door. Even if Beverly hadn’t already told me, I would have been able to figure out that her son had slept in here last night. The whole room smells of him. The leathery scent lifts my spirits slightly as I inhale it. Curling up in the recliner, I pick up the desk phone next to me.

  Thankfully, my parents have had the same number my whole life, otherwise I’d have had no idea who to call without my cell phone’s contacts list. I make a mental note to ask where my might be, along with my clothes.

  I finally quit stalling and begin dialing my parents’ number. I sit and wait for someone to answer and spot an elaborate Grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. Almost eight o’clock in the morning, so my father should already be awake; but hopefully no one else will be.

  “Hello, Merry Christmas.” He calls out cheerfully and his voice soothes me. I’ve always enjoyed hearing the deep smoky sound.

  “Good morning Daddy,” I say, feeling immediately like a little girl again.

  “Hey Jem. Are you close? I was beginning to worry, but figured you got caught in the weather and stopped somewhere for the night. If you hadn’t called when you did, I would have soon sent out the cavalry to look for you.”

  “No Daddy, I’m not close. I won’t be able to make it, I-“

  “What do you mean you won’t make it? Jemma, it’s time for you to move past this. You can’t avoid Keaton and Jessa the rest of your life; she’s your sister.”

  “Yeah Dad, I know she’s my sister; but you cut me off. You didn’t give me a chance to finish what I was saying.” I fight to control the frustration and irritation, but it’s so very hard.

  “Why aren’t you coming?” I hear my mother’s screeching voice as she picks up the second line.

  Rolling my eyes, I rub the bridge of my nose.

  “Hi Mom. I was trying to tell Dad, but everyone keeps interrupting me. I have no choice but to not be there, I-“

  “You said you were on your way just last night. Seriously, Jemma, grow up! Keaton and Jessa are in love. We gave you your time and space to deal with the rejection, but come on! Now you’re just being petty.”

  “Let me talk to her,” I hear Jessa call out in the background.

  My father tells me to hold on and hands her the phone.

  Why? Why did I even bother calling? Why put myself through this? I don’t need this shit.

  “Jemma, why do you have to ruin everything? You’re my sister and it’s Christmas. Are you still that hung up on my husband that you need to neglect your family? He didn’t love you, he loved me! I would have expected you to have moved on by now. You’re so selfish, hurting Mom and Dad just to get back at me. I have an announcement I’d like to make, and I’ve been holding off making it until we are all together; but you just have to ruin it, make sure everyone’s attention is all on you, huh? Do you have to be the center of attention all the time?”

  My patience finally runs out and I snap at whoever is still listening.

  “Seriously? You think I’m selfish? I’ve been trying to tell you all that I nearly froze to death last night when I had a flat tire, on a mountain side, in a snow storm. Yes, I’m okay and alive, obviously; not that any of you give a shit; but, they can’t get to my rental car for a day or two. I’m stuck in Virginia and that’s the only reason I’m not going to make it there. But, since everyone wants to keep cutting me off when I’m trying to tell you, I guess it doesn’t matter. For real? You call me selfish, but what about you? It’s not enough to steal my fiancé, right before our wedding, but now, instead of worrying about my well being, you’re more concerned with me ruining your announcement? Who cares about my feelings and how hurt I was? No, I’m not still hung up on him, nor do I give a crap about you or him or any announcement you are just dying to make. Jessa, when it comes to selfish, you’ve got the market cornered.” I pause just long enough to suck in a breath.

  “You know what? Go screw yourself, I’m done. I’m actually happy I can’t be there for Christmas. I would rather be alone than listen to Mom tell me that I’m not good enough, or to see you and that cheating ass you call a husband play kissy face. You can all have your little Bash Jemma party without me. I’ll talk to grams and visit her in my own time, without all of you. You have two daughters, Mother. Two. But you seem to only give a shit about one. Merry fucking Christmas! I hope you all enjoy it since I won’t be joining any of you again.” I slam down the phone as I hear my mother gasp.

  I’ve never use those kind of words with her, but I’ve had enough. I almost died. Do they care? No, th
ey don’t. I’m ruining their plans and that’s all that matters. Screw that bullshit.

  After hanging up, I just sit here for a few minutes, expecting the tears to come, but they never do. I think I lost any empathy for my family, any love for them, when Keaton and Jessa announced they were getting married. I was nearly destroyed. I almost gave up on life; but since moving to North Carolina, I’ve managed to work through my anger and hatred. Now, I’m just numb. The fact that I’m not crying right now just shows me that I’m fine with it all.

  I stand up and head back to the kitchen. I really need to know where my clothes and cell phone are. As comfy as I am, I don’t want to make Beverly look bad in front of her paying customers because I’m in her son's sweat pants. I could also use a hot shower. I can hear laughter and cheerful conversation coming from the guests in the dining room. Breakfast smells great and I wonder if Beverly would let me grab something before I head out.

  My lips curl slightly as I head to the hallway. Rounding the door, I slam into something rock hard. Instinctively, I put my hands up to block my body and there’s nothing but solid muscle beneath my fingers. I gasp I look up into those icicle eyes.

  Jarrod.

  I suck in a breath and tilt my face up more as I attempt to step back. But his hand on my hips stops me.

  Chapter 3

  Jarrod

  My anger almost boiled over as I stood in the hall listening to Jemma’s call to her family. Sure, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but I’m glad I did. Just hearing her side of the conversation was enough for me to be enraged for her. The woman was half frozen to death when I found her. Thankfully she warmed up and was fine, but what kind of family would rather chastise her for not being able to reach them, than be worried about her safety? It’s Christmas for god’s sake.