Black Flame Page 5

  A little warning bell went off in Jimmy’s head, and he let go of the scraper. He was reminded of an occasion a few months ago when his date had insisted on carrying her heavy purse all through the mini golf course he’d taken her to, after Jimmy had suggested a number of items that she might not actually have needed and could have left at home. All he was trying to do was to reduce the strain on her back, but as she seemed increasingly upset by his suggestions that she didn’t need her cosmetics or spare hair accessories, he had offered to carry the purse for her. “I can carry it myself,” she had said in precisely the same tone Deneen had just used.

  Evidently this was one of those maddening occasions when women didn’t just come out and say what they were thinking. Jimmy had obviously said or done something Deneen didn’t like, but instead of just telling him, and perhaps providing him with an acceptable alternative, she was now trying to clear an icy windshield with the brush end of the scraper. Which was understandable, for someone inexperienced with cold weather, but anyone who’d spent time in Conway knew that snowstorms often started with a spell of freezing rain, which left a layer of ice on the glass, which then—

  “Ahhh!” Deneen shrieked, as the scraper flew out of her hand and into a snow covered bush. “I can’t feel my fingers any more—it just slipped—”

  She tugged off her mittens and her hands, completely bare to the elements, were bright red, but that didn’t stop her from tackling the bush. Down on her knees in her denim jeans—and hadn’t she just been pointing out cotton’s unsuitability in cold, wet conditions?—she poked around in the branches. Jimmy watched her for as long as he could stand it, but when her muffled curses turned into sobs, he knelt down beside her.

  “Um, Deneen, I know you are angry with me, but it doesn’t make any sense for you to risk frostbite. Will you please let me scrape the window, and get in the car?”

  Next to him, she went completely still. The lights from the house cast a pale, golden light onto the lawn, but overhead the sky was thick with scudding clouds and swirling snow. After a moment, she hiccupped. Twice.

  Jimmy carefully reached around her, where he’d spotted the handle of the scraper resting in the snow. After retrieving it, he gently put his hand under her arm and helped her to her feet. To his astonishment, she pressed her face to his chest and started to cry.

  “This place…is…terrible,” she sobbed. “It’s cold and dark and you can’t even see the road and the scraper doesn’t work and I think I wrecked my manicure, but it won’t matter if they have to amputate my fingers, and Jayne’s going to think I messed up again because I didn’t tell her I was coming and I thought it would be such a nice surprise but nothing’s going the way I wanted…”

  Carefully, tentatively, Jimmy put his hands on Deneen’s back and patted gently. She snuggled closer against him, her hands on his chest, crying harder.

  “It will be all right,” he said, because it seemed like a good thing to say.

  “No it won’t,” she mumbled against him. The sensation of her face pressed against his chest—even through his coat—made it hard for Jimmy to breathe. “I got fired last week and I told everyone I quit. It’s just if my family finds out I was fired from the brow bar after what happened at the taqueria—I mean, they’ll never give me another chance. How was I to know Mitzi had left the wax heater on high? I never meant to hurt that woman, and if she sues…”

  Deneen’s mystifying stream of consciousness devolved into wordless tears, and Jimmy patted harder. Eventually, he gave up and wrapped Deneen in his arms, tucking her head under his chin, trying to hug her into silence. She held on, snuffling and squeezing, until at last, slowly, she quieted and pulled away from him. She looked up at him, tears sparkling on her cheeks.

  “You’re kind of a surprisingly good hugger, Jimmy,” she said. “Thanks for letting me have my meltdown. I find it’s best just to get it all out, don’t you?”

  “Uh, I’m not really…I don’t…I mean, you’re welcome.”

  “And the feeling’s back in my fingers,” she said, waggling them as proof. “You’re a very warm person.”

  “I’m just wearing a down coat,” Jimmy said. “The loose structure of duck feathers traps air exceptionally well.”

  She surprised him by laughing. Her capacity for rapid changes in emotion was truly exceptional. “Nah, I think you’re just warm,” she said, making tracks in the snow to the passenger side and opening the door.

  As he started in on the frozen windshield, scraping ice with expertise he’d earned in the first few storms of the season, she added, “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was slow going. Jimmy drove like an elderly person, keeping to the right lane as other traffic passed him, even though most vehicles were being cautious in the accumulating snow.

  “Oh, look,” Deneen said, as they passed a car that was fender deep in a drift on the side of the road. A truck had stopped and the two drivers were affixing a tow chain to the car. “How did they end up there?”

  “Easier than you’d think,” Jimmy said. “Drifts, black ice, snow snakes, there are many ways a car can lose traction in bad weather.”

  Deneen swallowed and decided that she’d rather not know what a snow snake was.

  Jimmy’s phone, which was resting in the cup holder, sounded with the ring tone of an old-fashioned phone. He glanced at it and then back at the road.

  “Can you get that? It’s Cal, and I don't want to take my attention off the road.”

  Deneen picked it up and put it on speaker before answering. “Hello, this is Jimmy’s phone, Deneen Burgess speaking.” The training she’d received at the short-lived office manager job she’d landed last summer had got her in the habit of answering the phone briskly.

  “Deneen Burgess?” Cal’s voice was crackly and faint. “Jayne’s little sister?”

  “Yes. Hi, Cal.” Ordinarily Deneen might have felt a little star-struck to be speaking to Calvin Dixon, once the most coveted bad boy hunk of Red Fork High School. “I don’t know if you remember me from high school, but I dropped a pencil in front of you once.”

  “Yeah, weird, that happened to me a lot,” Cal said. Deneen smiled; so, he still didn’t realize the effect he’d had on girls. “But I do remember you. Er—kind of skinny, with short light blond hair and braces, right?”

  “Well, my hair grew out and I got rid of the braces.”

  “Welcome to North Dakota, but what on earth are you doing with Jimmy’s phone?”

  “I’m here,” Jimmy said. “I’m driving, so I can’t take my hands from the wheel.”

  “Oh?” Did Deneen detect a change in Cal’s tone? “And where are you two headed on Christmas Eve?”

  “I, er, came to visit Jayne,” Deneen said, hoping Jimmy would keep his mouth shut so she wouldn’t have to explain the fiasco. “I thought it would be nice to spend a white Christmas up north and be here when they got back.”

  She pointedly ignored Jimmy, in case he disapproved. After all, it wasn’t so much a lie as…well, okay, so it was a tiny white lie.

  “That’s great. I hope to be having Christmas dinner with you tomorrow. I’ve been putting a ton of overtime in and Chief’s making me take tomorrow off. But look, I don’t think I’m going to be home tonight. Too many accidents out on the road, we’re all out answering calls. And unfortunately one of them’s a three-car pileup on Route 15 that’s taking up both lanes, so it looks like Zane’s not going to make it home either.”

  “That’s terrible,” Deneen said. “Is he going to have to spend the night on the rig?” She didn’t have any idea what the inside of a rig looked like, but she doubted it would make for peaceful slumber.

  “No, he called to let me know that the owners of a ranch out that way are putting up the crew, and they’ll just return in the morning for their shift tomorrow.”

  “But they aren’t working on Christmas Day, surely?”

  “Every day of the year. Rigs don’t ev
er shut down, not with the production costs and the demand being what they are.”

  “Poor things. What a way to spend their holiday,” Deneen said with feeling. At least a few people in North Dakota were going to have a worse Christmas than her.

  “If it gets clear out here, I’ll run out there and check on them. But they’ll be okay. Anyway just wanted to let you, Jimmy, know not to hold dinner for us.”

  “It, um, is all gone anyway,” Deneen said, trying to sound regretful.

  “What a shame,” Cal said sarcastically.

  “Cal,” Deneen said, before he could hang up. In one of their long phone calls, Jayne had told her about how hard Cal had worked to prove himself to the police Chief, after being unable to get on the force in Arkansas due to some black marks on his juvenile record. Jayne was obviously proud of him, which was all Deneen needed to know; Red Forks’ wicked heartthrob had made good. “Er, stay safe out there, okay? I’m looking forward to re-meeting you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do my best.”

  By the time Cal had wished them a Merry Christmas and hung up, Jimmy had pulled up in front of a postcard-pretty farmhouse on the edge of town. Colorful lights sparkled from the eves, and a jolly lighted Santa drove his sleigh across the roof.

  “Oh, how lovely!” Deneen gasped. At last, somebody who understood the holiday spirit.

  Jimmy came around and opened her door. Deneen had to admit that she could get used to his old-fashioned manners, especially if he just loosened up a bit. But when they reached the front door and Mrs. Osterhaus came to greet them, he addressed her formally.

  Luckily, she was ready for him. “Good evening, Doris,” was as far as he got before she pecked him on the cheek and dragged him into the house.

  “Mercy, come on in out of the cold, you poor things! And who is this lovely girl?”

  “Doris, may I present Deneen Burgess, who is visiting from Arkansas. Deneen, this is Doris Osterhaus, my fellow volunteer at the Family Circle Intervention Center.”

  “Oh, those manners of yours!” Mrs. Osterhaus giggled. “You surely would make your mother proud. Young lady, how was your flight?”

  Deneen felt herself slipping into the easy rhythm of small town visiting. This, at least, she knew how to do. With an occasional glare at Jimmy, who clearly wanted to be on their way, she said hello to Dr. Osterhaus, admired photographs of the grandchildren who would be coming tomorrow for Christmas dinner, accepted a slice of fruitcake and a cup of coffee, and exclaimed over the beautifully decorated tree.

  “Oh, I didn’t even use half of my decorations this year,” Mrs. Osterhaus said, beaming, as she poured more coffee. “Poor Larry—his office assistant is out on maternity leave. I help when I can, but the temp quit after two days, so he’s been seeing patients and running the office all by himself.”

  “That sounds like quite a challenge,” Deneen said, while a little light bulb went off in her head.

  “Oh, it’s not too bad,” Dr. Osterhaus said. “I’m an optometrist, so my patients aren’t in life-threatening situations. They’ve been quite understanding about the delay in eye exams and contact lens fittings and so forth.”

  “Okay, it’s been nice, we should go,” Jimmy said, unable to contain himself any longer. “Deneen still needs to stop by the grocery.”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Osterhaus said. “That place will be a madhouse tonight! It always is when a big storm rolls in, and with the holidays here, everyone will be doing last-minute shopping. What is it that you need, dear?”

  “Just a few things—cinnamon, powdered sugar, and gumdrops.”

  “By coincidence, I have all of those! I insist you taken them.”

  “You even have gumdrops?”

  “My grandchildren are coming tomorrow,” Mrs. Osterhaus beamed. “And we will be decorating gingerbread cookies.”

  “Say no more,” Deneen said. “I’d love to borrow them. And you’ve been so kind already, I hate to take advantage of your hospitality, but I have one more request.”

  “Of course, dear,” Mrs. Osterhaus beamed. “It’s so nice to see Jimmy finally found a lovely girl. Now we just need to convince you to stay up here in beautiful Conway.”

  “Oh,” Deneen said, blushing. “We’re not…er…”

  “Deneen and I are not romantically involved,” Jimmy said, in a tone that suggested he was horrified by that idea. “She is in town to visit her sister, who also lives out at Sugar Hill Ranch.”

  Mrs. Osterhaus looked deflated. “Oh, well. Do you have a boyfriend, dear?”

  “Um, not really, no.”

  “Oh, well then.” The smile was back to full wattage. “I think the holidays are quite romantic, don’t you?”

  #

  “I have one more errand tonight, and then I shall be going to bed,” Jimmy announced when they finally returned to the ranch, after a scary drive home past several more pileups. Deneen had helped him tie a tarp over the decorations that he and Dr. Osterhaus had carried out to the truck. “I suggest that you get some rest. We will have to get up early tomorrow, now that we will also have to decorate the center.”

  “What time do you want to leave?”

  “Seven o’clock should be adequate.”

  “Seven!”

  “You could always stay here. I can accomplish it by myself.”

  “No chance,” Deneen said. Getting up early would at least ensure that she wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone. “I’ll be ready. Er…what sort of errand do you have to do? Can I help?”

  “No,” Jimmy said shortly, looking flustered. “I mean, it won’t take long, and it makes no sense for both of us to go back out into the elements.”

  “Sure.” Deneen nodded, trying to cover up the hurt she was inexplicably feeling. It had been a dumb suggestion, anyway; she would much rather stay warm and dry in the bunkhouse. Besides, Jimmy was probably going to visit a girlfriend. Even though Jayne had confided in Deneen that the ratio of men to women in Conway was 5 to 1, Jimmy was just too drop-dead hot to stay single, even if he was as hard to read as a Latin textbook.

  They were standing in the kitchen, on opposite sides of the long pine table. The air between them seemed charged. The pressure of the holidays, no doubt: their complicated histories, the family that Jimmy had lost, and the family that Deneen had purposefully taken a break from. She felt like she ought to say something profound to mark the occasion. But what? Jimmy wasn’t the sentimental sort, nor did he seem particularly religious.

  “Watch out for reindeer,” she blurted, then wished she could take it back.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Deneen blushed, something she seemed to be doing every other minute around Jimmy. “Oh, it’s just something my grandfather used to say, when we were kids. My mom and dad and my grandma weren’t really into the holidays. They thought they were just a big commercial indulgence.”

  “A sensible viewpoint,” Jimmy commented approvingly.

  “Yes, well, kids love Christmas no matter what. And my grandpa was the only one who got into the spirit with me and Jayne. Every year he’d tell us to watch out for reindeer, and sometime in the middle of the night, there’d be the sound of bells outside, and then we would hear the sleigh landing on the roof. Of course, it was just Grandpa—he’d get the ladder out of the garage and climb up there just to give us a thrill. When we finally found out about Santa, we knew it had been him. But by then he had died.”

  Jimmy started to answer, and then a sad look crossed his face. Deneen wondered if he was thinking about his mother: about the things she’d been unable to do for him.

  “What was Christmas like for you and your mom?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t poking her nose into things that weren’t her business. Maybe he’d feel better if he could talk about it.

  “It was…” Jimmy frowned and studied the table. When he looked up again, his expression was guarded. “It was fine. So, I’d better go. Good night.”

  Abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked to the front door.<
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  “Good night,” Deneen called after him. After the door had shut, she added softly, the words her grandfather always said when he gave Jayne and Deneen goodnight hugs on Christmas Eve, “Don’t let Santa see you out of bed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jimmy knew his errand would take longer in the snow, especially since Nan’s house was at the other end of town. Still, the thick blanket of fluffy new flakes quickly covered the roads that the town crew managed to plow, and it didn’t help that the temperature had risen and now was hovering right under freezing, meaning slush turned quickly to ice on the roads.

  It was nearly midnight when he returned home. He tried to slip quietly into the house, so as not to wake Deneen. Her door was closed, he noted with relief as he passed on his way to his room. Quickly stripping out of his clothes, he grabbed his towel off the hook in his room—there wasn’t room in the bathroom for everyone to hang their towels—and wrapped it around his waist.

  He pushed open the door to the bathroom and stopped cold.

  Sitting in the tub, under a mound of bubbles, and illuminated only by the glow of a couple of candles on the sink, was Deneen. Her hair was piled up on her head, a few blond strands having come free and fallen against her cheek, and her eyes were closed. A faint smile played across her lips as she languidly swirled the bubbles around the tub with one hand. She was wearing ear buds, but even so Jimmy could hear the faint sounds of music coming from her phone, which was perched perilously close to the edge of the tub.

  Strangely, she had applied a gel-like green substance to her face, covering the skin from her forehead to her chin, leaving holes around the eyes so that she looked vaguely like a mint-green panda bear.

  “At ninety-four decibels, which I’m pretty sure your music is exceeding, your risk of hearing loss passes acceptable levels,” Jimmy said loudly.

  Deneen’s eyes flew open and she gasped as she yanked the ear buds off and flung them to the floor. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her breasts and sinking farther into the tub, so that the bubbles came up to her chin.