Highlander for the Holidays (17 page)

She looked down at the letter.
It was the magic, Jess,
she continued reading, this time silently.
The same powerful energy you’ll need to master if you intend to have that houseful of bairns you’re wanting so badly. So listen up, lass, because by the winter solstice, you’d best be holding the correct man’s hand when the tragedy that’s been haunting you for the last four years finally plays itself out.

“Dammit, Roger! If you know so much about my life, then why not just tell me whose hands I’m supposed to grasp?”

Toby lifted his head at her outburst.

“And why are you so insistent that I continue reading his letter?” she asked more softly, giving Toby a pat as he scooted closer to rest his chin on her thigh. “I know you’re unusually perceptive, Tobes, but . . .” She sighed when he softly whined. “Okay, I’ll read it out loud so you can hear for yourself how crazy Roger is.”

Ignoring her own craziness for talking to a dog as if he were human, Jessie scanned down the page until she found where she’d left off. “
I can’t be . . .
” She took a steadying breath at the realization that Roger was actually answering her question. “
I can’t be outright telling you which man you should trust, Jess, because it’s really not my place to interfere.
” She looked at Toby with a snort, then back at the letter. “
But I can give you a couple of nudges in the right direction, and I do believe if you think back, you’ll realize that I’ve already given you several hints. If you missed them, well, I’ll see what I can do to jog your memory when the time comes.
”

Oh God, she could practically hear Roger cackling with laughter. Jessie turned over the page with a scowl, sighing in relief to see the letter was winding down.

“
But until we meet again, I suggest you keep your new walking stick as close as you keep Tobias, because I’m afraid you’re going to need both to get you through the next few weeks. Which is why I also suggest that you trust them when they’re telling you not to believe what you’re seeing or hearing.
”

Jessie lowered the paper again to smile at Toby. “I always trust you, you big lug.” She looked at the walking stick leaning against the counter. “As for that stick . . . well, after giving me a shock the first time I touched it, it’s only been an ordinary stick.”

She sighed and looked back at the letter. “
One last thing, Jess,
” she continued aloud, “
concerning what I said about allowing yourself to be vulnerable again. What if I were to tell you that a woman’s greatest strength lies not in her beauty but in what is wrongly perceived as her weakness? Because it’s true, you know; the courage it takes for a woman to open her heart and body to a man actually makes her the stronger of the two. Realize your own strength, Jess, and bring the right man to his knees simply by giving him your trust as well.
”

Her eyes suddenly so blurry she couldn’t see the words anymore, Jessie swiped at the tears running down her cheeks and then wiped her sniffling nose on her sleeve. “Oh God, Toby, Roger makes it sound so . . . like I can just undress in front of a guy and he’ll be so overwhelmed by my courage that he won’t even notice my ugly scars and missing breast.”

She started to crumple the page, but stopped when Toby lifted his head with a soft growl. She blinked at him, and then wiped her nose on her sleeve again. “Okay,” she muttered, uncrumpling the paper to continue reading. “
This is the season of miracles, Jess, and the one you’re about to receive—as well as give—has been waiting four long years for you to crawl out of your deep dark hole and come here and claim it.

“
So if I can be of service over the coming weeks, or if you’re needing the perfect Christmas gift to give a certain fella—say, a big gnarly walking stick that would nicely complement your own—all you need do is walk your road with the intention of seeing me, and I’ll be waiting for you.

“
Sincerely, your greatest ally and humble servant, Roger de Keage

“
PS: You have exactly two weeks and four days to practice cooking a proper venison roast, as I’m not wanting to be poisoned when you thoughtfully invite me to Christmas dinner with you and your family. Oh, and I’ll bring the Scotch, and we’ll see if it might be good for what ails your overheating mama.
”

Okay, it was official, Jessie decided as she folded the wrinkled letter and set it on the table next to the card; if Roger was crazy, then she was crazy, too. Because instead of being freaked out by what she’d just read—out loud to a dog, no less—Jessie felt her last pang of doubt evaporate at the notion she’d been drawn here to create a miracle.

No, two miracles; one for her and one for the man whose hand she intended to still be holding well into old age. “Come on, Tobes,” she said, closing her recliner and standing up. “We need to get that pot inside before Roger changes his mind and takes it back because he didn’t get something in trade. So first thing tomorrow,” she continued as she headed for the door, “we’ll look through my catalogs and order him something nice in exchange for the pot and wagon.”

She stepped onto the porch, set the lid on the pot and picked it up—surprised by how heavy it was—and carried it inside to the counter. “And then we’ll drive to Greenville and buy a huge beef roast to practice on, and I’ll use Ian as a guinea pig when he comes back from his hunting trip.” She turned and smiled at Toby, who sat in the middle of the kitchen, and she’d swear he was smiling, too. “Ian will think I’m trying to learn to cook to impress him, and he’ll be so grateful, he might even take us dancing at Pete’s again this Saturday. Oh, damn, he can’t. The campers begin arriving Saturday, and I promised Sadie I’d man the registration table and hand out packets.”

And that would keep her and Ian busy all week, Jessie thought with a sigh as she started opening cupboard doors looking for something to fix for supper. Then Ian would be busy getting ready for the resort to open to skiers once camp was over, and she’d be busy . . . Damn, she didn’t have a job to go to anymore, did she? No, that wasn’t true; she could start working up an international marketing campaign for Sadie’s camp.

Jessie grabbed one of the boxes of cereal and a can of dog food, then opened another cupboard and took down two bowls. She popped the top on the dog food and started spooning it into one of the bowls. “Once I start cooking regular meals, I can mix gravy and vegetables in with your dry food,” she told Toby, walking over and setting his dish on the floor next to his water bowl. “And you know what?” she said, straightening with a smile as he sniffed the food then looked up at her. “I do believe I
will
invite Roger to Christmas dinner, if only to watch him go nose to nose with my
mama
.”

BLINDED BY TEARS SHE COULD NO LONGER HOLD BACK,
Jessie groped her way down the hallway, concerned only with reaching the women’s restroom before anyone saw her. Honest to God, despite being in rehab beside scarred and disabled people, she’d been completely caught off guard when the first child had rushed up to the registration table ahead of her parents and older brother. The young girl—who couldn’t be over seven years old—had thrust out her prosthetic hook to Jessie and introduced herself as Courtney, in the same breath asking if her friend Peyton had arrived yet. Jessie had apparently hesitated just long enough that Sadie MacKeage had rushed around the table to sweep Courtney up into a laughing hug.

Utterly ashamed of herself, Jessie had plastered a smile on her face and spent the rest of the morning in a numbed daze as child after disabled and disfigured child arrived with their families, until the lobby was a study in chaos of campers and staff boisterously reconnecting. Her only saving grace was Toby, who became an instant celebrity as well as a perfect distraction. But it was the young boy with the biggest eyes Jessie had ever seen and curly blond hair that belonged on an angel—instead of the heathen Sadie called him—that had been Jessie’s tipping point. Asking for directions to the restroom then politely excusing herself, the image of that boy—whose name was Mark, she’d learned when his mother had shouted for him to slow down—propelled Jessie through the sea of wheelchairs and crutches and laughing adults and children.

Jessie stumbled into the restroom far less gracefully than Mark had burst into the lobby on high-tensile, curved steel springs instead of legs, remembering how he’d caught the tip of one of the springs on something and skidded on his belly across the lobby, only to pick himself up before anyone else could and start running again.

Jessie collapsed into a heap on the floor and burst into tears, burying her face in Toby’s fur. “Oh, Toby, have you ever seen anything that sad?” she sobbed as Toby tucked his head over her shoulder against her neck in a doggy hug. “You were so brave, I wouldn’t have survived without you. I . . . I don’t think I can do this all week, Tobes. Not with—Hey, the bathroom’s occupied,” she said, trying to reach the door with her foot when it opened.

“Jess?” Ian asked, peeking inside. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She hid her face against Toby again, hugging him tighter when he tried to pull back. “Please go away.”

She sensed Ian step into the restroom and squat down in front of her. “Ye don’t look fine,” he said quietly.

“Please go away. I want to be alone.”

“Well, since Toby isn’t growling at me, I can only assume he wants me to stay,” he said as Jessie heard him sit down beside her with a sigh. “I’m only guessing here, lass, but I’m sorry no one took the time to prepare you for what you’d be seeing today.”

Her face still hidden in Toby’s fur, Jessie tried to give a negligent shrug but released a betraying sob instead, only to gasp when she was suddenly lifted off the floor. She turned and hid against Ian’s chest when he settled her across his thighs and wrapped her up in a hug.

“You don’t look at their broken and scarred bodies, Jess, you look at
them
,” he said thickly. “Did ye not notice the barely contained excitement in their eyes?”

“B-but they’re just
children
. What did they ever do to deserve such . . . such terrible disabilities?” She gathered his shirt in her fist. “Why is life so
unfair
?”

Ian’s thumb gently brushed her cheek. “Easy, now,” he said into her hair. “Life isn’t fair or unfair; it simply is. Sometimes bad things happen to good people no matter how hard we try to prevent them. All we can do is deal with what comes at us, Jess, which is exactly what those children are doing. They don’t live in the what-ifs; they live each day in the moment.” He tilted her head back and smiled at her, brushing a lock of hair off her cheek. “And today they’re beginning a week-long winter adventure, their only concern being whether or not
this
is the year they finally work up the nerve to sneak away from their parents to swim naked with their friends.”

Trying to stifle her sniffling, Jessie hid her face against Ian’s chest again.

“Hey, did you just wipe your nose on my shirt?” he muttered, using his shoulder to nudge her upright.

Oh God, had she? “No. No, I’m pretty sure that was my hand you felt,” she said, wiping his shirt under the pretense of smoothing it down. She gave another sniffle and stared at her hand. “I’m sorry for running off like that,” she whispered, “but I felt . . . I got so overwhelmed. I don’t know if I can come back here, Ian.” She made a valiant attempt at a smile. “Because the last thing those kids need is to be around a grown woman who can’t even swim, much less have the courage to take them skinny-dipping.”

“No, we certainly wouldn’t want the little heathens to have to rescue a naked drowning lady,” he said, setting her off his lap and standing up, then lifting Jessie to her feet. “So wash your face,” he instructed, nudging her toward the sink, “so ye don’t alarm anyone on your way out. I’ll pick you up under the portico in ten minutes.” He held out his hand and grinned. “But it’ll have to be in your car, since the passenger-side door on my truck won’t open at the moment.”

“I can drive myself home.”

“You could
if
you were going home. But I’m taking you someplace that’s guaranteed to cure what’s ailing you at the moment.”

Jessie eyed him suspiciously. “Does it involve Scotch?”

He chuckled, waggling the fingers on his outstretched hand. “No, it involves a trek through the snow followed by hot cocoa and doughnuts in front of a roaring fire.” He arched a brow. “You can make hot cocoa, can’t you?”

Jessie wiped her cheeks and then her nose with her sleeve. “I’ve been known to scald a batch or two. Um, where are we getting the doughnuts?”

“From the same place we’re trekking through the snow.”

“And that would be?”

“A surprise,” he said, waggling his fingers again.

Jessie wondered if Ian wasn’t the best cure for what ailed her. “My keys are in my purse under the reception table.”

He dropped his hand with a snort and headed for the door. “There’s not much that scares me, but I’d rather cross a minefield than rummage through a woman’s purse. I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.”