A Miracle For Christmas. Grace Green

to be a movie star! You’re also one of the nicest people around.’

      Stephanie secured the bulging bag with a twist tie, dragged it across the carpet and added it to the three others slumped by the door. Only then did she turn to Janey and say firmly, ‘I don’t want to talk about him anymore.’

      ‘Okay...but he was going to drive you to Rockfield in his Jag, and now you’re stuck with taking your old van, and you know it’s not all that reliable. It’s been stalling and—’

      ‘I’ll have my dad look at it when I get home.’

      ‘You should have someone look at it here, before you leave.’

      ‘Can’t afford garage bills right now—’

      ‘You almost wiped out your bank account with that Louis Féraud cocktail blouse.’ Janey sighed. ‘You were out of your league, sweetie pie—’

      ‘Janey...’ Stephanie’s tone had an edge of warning.

      Janey scowled. ‘It’s just that I’m worried you might get stuck on a back road somewhere, and that’s no fun in these winter conditions. Why don’t you go home by bus?’

      ‘Can you see me carting all these bags onto a bus?’

      ‘Leave the toys. The kids won’t mind.’

      ‘My nieces and nephews won’t mind if they don’t get a sample of my Warmest Fuzzies for Christmas? Janey, my stuffed animals are a highlight of their holidays!’ Stephanie dusted her palms on the seat of her cream slacks. ‘Now if you’ll quit scolding and help me carry everything out to the van, I’d like to get on my way.’ She crossed to the dresser mirror, and sneaking the opportunity to blink away threatening tears, adjusted her white-trimmed red toque to a saucy angle that was at direct odds with her aching misery.

      When she turned, it was with a bright smile.

      ‘Right,’ she said, ‘I’m ready.’ She scooped up her red coat from the end of the bed, and slipped it on.

      Janey’s russet hair, waist-long and uncompromisingly straight, swung out like it were a sheet of flame as she got to her feet. ‘Have you called your parents? Do they know you’re coming home a day earlier than planned?’

      ‘No—oh, darn, how did you get down there!’ Stephanie bent to pick up a teddy bear from under the wicker rocking chair. He was her favourite creation this current season; soft and cuddly, in plush nutmeg brown, he had glass-bead eyes and an endearingly lifelike expression. She undid the thong fastening her duffel bag, and pushed the toy down atop her clothes. There wasn’t quite room, and as she started tightening the thong again, the bear’s head bounced out and he looked up indignantly, as if to say, Hey, I need air! Her lips curved in an amused smile as she gathered the thong firmly around his neck—

      ‘Steph...your parents?’

      ‘I haven’t told them. If they knew I was traveling on my own, they’d worry. We can talk once I get there.’

      ‘And the Warmest Fuzzies Toy Store?’

      ‘Joyce’s going to look after the store, and her daughter Gina’s going to help out. Apparently Gina’s expecting a baby in June, and she and her boyfriend are saving to get married, so the extra cash will come in handy.’

      ‘You seem to have everything under control.’ Janey took charge of two of the orange bags and led the way out to the corridor. ‘How long will you be on the road?’ she asked over her shoulder as Stephanie had a last look around.

      ‘Four or five hours.’ Trailing the remaining bags behind her, Stephanie followed her friend along the lobby of the triple decker building. ‘Since it’s the day before Christmas Eve, the traffic will in all likelihood be busy, but there’s been no new snow for the last few days so the roads should be okay...

      ‘With luck, I should reach Rockfield before dark.’

      

      The day was bright when Stephanie left Boston, but by the time she reached Montpelier, where she stopped at an Esso station to fill her gas tank, the sky had changed ominously from its previous milky blue to a bruised charcoal gray.

      ‘Darkness is settin’ in early today.‘ The strawhaired attendant squinted heavenward as he returned her Visa card. ‘And a bad storm forecast for tonight. Goin’ far?’

      ‘Rockfield.’

      ‘Rockfield, huh? Watch out for them narrow mountain roads once you leave the highway. They can be right tricky this time of year.’

      She gave him a wry smile as she agreed with him. And as he jogged away to attend a waiting truck, Stephanie promised herself she would indeed be very careful as she tackled those ‘right tricky’ mountain roads.

      But when she turned the key in the ignition and a foreboding silence greeted her, she had to ask herself if she would be driving those roads that day at all. And after six increasingly frantic attempts to start the engine, she surrendered to the inevitable. Getting out, she clutched her coat around herself and made for the service bay, her nostrils prickling as they were exposed to the frosty air.

      A mechanic came out and inspected the van’s innards. ‘Yup,’ he said, ‘we can fix ’er, but we won’t get to ‘er till tonight. You can pick ’er up after we close at nine.’

      Nine! Good Lord, how was she going to fill in the time till then!

      The mechanic directed her to a nearby mall, where she browsed aimlessly for a couple of hours, had a burger and then lingered for a long while over several cups of coffee, before taking in a movie. When she came out of the mall at quarter to nine, a gusty wind was whipping along the dark street—an icy cold wind, with the smell of fresh snow in it. Chin tucked into her coat collar, she hurried along to the gas station.

      The van was ready and the repair cost a bundle. But as she headed out to Route 89, she decided that by the time her Visa bill came in, she should be able to meet it.

      At least she had her van... and it was now reliable.

      

      The blizzard struck after she’d left the highway.

      She was on a side road, and emerging from the shelter of a covered bridge, when it hit with sudden savage force. Snow billowed down over the windshield, blinding her for a few unnerving seconds till she got the wipers going.

      Oh, Lord, she thought, slowing as she peered into the porridge-thick mass and concentrated on keeping to her own side of the road, what have I let myself in for? If only Tony were here—

      Scrub that thought! Anthony Howard Gould III was a fake—all style, and no substance. She needed him like she needed a hole in her head!

      

      She had been driving for the best part of an hour when she realized to her dismay that somewhere along the way—disoriented by the storm—she had taken a wrong turning.

      She knew that by this time she should have been climbing up the gentle mountain slope leading to Rockfield, not, as she was doing now, going downhill, leading to...?

      With a feeling of growing horror, she noted that the gradient here was fast becoming dangerously steep. She braked, but the van gathered speed, continued to gather speed. Damn! She pressed her foot down on the pedal more firmly, praying the van would slow its pace. It didn’t.

      She panicked. Rammed her foot to the boards.

      The van slewed into a sideways skid.

      With her fingers clawed around the steering wheel, she peered desperately into the dark and swirling storm.

      And didn’t even see the snowbank till she was in it.

      CHAPTER TWO

      DAMIAN MCALLISTER groaned, and with a feeling of utter despair, buried his stubbled face deep into his pillow.

      ‘Go