A Christmas to Remember. Rebecca Moesta

the weather forecaster said.

      John chose to be as optimistic as possible in the circumstances. He glanced at his son. “Well, that sounds like good sledding weather to me.”

      Suddenly, a figure appeared in the middle of the road in front of the truck.

      Adrenaline shot through John. He steered to one side, missing the person. Even as his heart raced, he applied slow, firm pressure on the brake pedal, and brought the truck to an expert stop. His arms were tense, his mouth open. That was close! His attention instantly turned to Kyle.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Yeah,” Kyle answered immediately. He was uninjured, but he looked as surprised as John felt.

      John replayed the last thirty seconds in his mind. What had actually happened? He had thought he was being watchful, but that person had seemed to come out of nowhere. Something must be wrong. He put the truck into park. “Hey, you stay right here, okay? Be right back.” John got out of the pickup and ran toward the figure in the road. It was a woman.

      “Are you okay? Are you—I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. What are you doing out here?” Even by the dim glow of his truck’s taillights, he could see that the woman was beautiful and statuesque.

      She gave him a curious stare. “I don’t know.”

      Not the answer he had expected. How could the woman not know why she was out on a mountain road in a snowstorm? John rapidly switched into problem-solving mode. “What’s going on? Did your car break down? Did you…are you all right?”

      “I don’t know.”

      He wondered briefly if she had been drinking. Her speech was slurred. His medical training kicked in, and he started assessing her for symptoms of illness, intoxication, or injury.

      “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She shook her head as if trying to clear it, rubbed her eyes, then repeated, “I don’t know,” several more times. She wavered on her feet.

      “Oh.” John caught her and steadied her before she could fall. He smelled no alcohol at all on her breath, but he did notice some blood in her hair. Her confusion and dizziness could well be caused by a head injury. It seemed there was more to be concerned about than whether the woman could answer his questions. “All right, you’ve got quite a head laceration. We should take care of that.”

      He kept an arm around her as they walked to his truck. On the way, he did a rapid assessment of her state. Her eyes were open. She responded to questions, although she sounded baffled. She was walking. She lifted a hand and made a fist when he asked her to.

      He opened the passenger-side door, and the interior light came on.

      “Okay, Kyle. Move over, buddy.” Kyle helpfully scooted toward the center and fastened himself into the middle seatbelt.

      John helped the woman into the passenger seat. “Up, up, up. All the way…there we go. Watch your feet. Watch your toes.” Good. She was obeying multistep instructions. He looked at her eyes as he fastened her seatbelt. They were open, with no signs of bruising or uneven pupils that he could see. It wasn’t safe to try to get to the hospital or police station in this weather. They were too far away, so he would have to take her to his house where he could perform a better examination. He shut the passenger-side door.

      The woman looked at them both in confusion as John climbed back into the driver’s seat. “What is this?”

      Kyle giggled. “You just sat on a pie.”

      She had a bewildered expression. “A pie?”

      John said, “Look, that cut on your head looks pretty bad. We should get you back and take a look at that.”

      The woman felt around for the cut on her head and found it.

      “Gentle, gentle,” John warned her.

      She pulled her hand away and looked at the blood on her fingers. “Oooh.”

      “Ew,” Kyle said, looking down and rubbing his eyes.

      “It’s really red,” she observed in an oddly distant-sounding voice.

      “Yeah,” John said. She was responsive, and her words made sense, more or less. Those were good signs.

      “You know what? I’m fine… I’m just going to take a little nap.” She leaned over, put her head on Kyle’s shoulder, and closed her eyes.

      “Dad, she fell asleep on me.” Kyle seemed amused and embarrassed that this total stranger had decided to use him as a pillow. “Is she gonna be okay?”

      John was pleased by his son’s concern for the stranger, just as Kyle had worried about the mare and the foal earlier. It showed good instincts. “I think she’s going to be fine. The sooner we get her home, keep an eye on her, the better, okay?”

      He glanced at the woman, only mildly worried that she’d fallen asleep. They would be home soon, and he would check her again to rule out serious injuries. Until then, they could let her rest.

      “So, what are we going to do with her?” Kyle asked.

      “I actually have no idea.”

      It was a completely new situation for John. He had encountered stray pets, wounded wild animals, and children lost in shopping malls. In all those cases, he’d made sure they made it safely back to where they belonged. But he had never come across a wounded, stray person before. A beautiful woman, no less. All he knew for now was that, like the animals and children he had helped, he would take good care of her.

Chapter 9

      Light streamed through the window, waking her. She found herself on a soft mattress, propped up on pillows and cuddling a stuffed animal. A small dog lying on the bed by her legs barked twice at her. She glanced around, trying to place where she was, but the room was unfamiliar. From beside the bed, a blond-haired little girl holding a doll watched her.

      “Hi. I’m Daisy. I’m four and a half.” The girl’s smile was bright and friendly as she rattled on. “This is my bedroom, but you can sleep in here if you want to. Sometimes my friends sleep over. That’s my dog, Biscuit. And this is my doll, Sally. Do you have a doll?”

      What a sweet, bubbly little girl.

      Jennifer opened her mouth to reply, but no answer came to mind. “I don’t think so.” Was she just feeling groggy from sleep? She sat up against the pillows, hoping the new posture would make her more alert. Strange. It hadn’t been a difficult question, so why didn’t she know the answer?

      Daisy turned toward the door and yelled, “The pretty lady woke up.”

      Seconds later, a man came into the room. He appeared to be in his forties and tall—over six feet—with short brown hair and intense blue eyes. Definitely handsome. The thought surprised her. It wasn’t normal for her. Or was it? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure. Anyway, the man was a total stranger. Should she be worried?

      “Where am I?” she asked him.

      He approached the bed and spoke in a calm voice, as if afraid he might startle her. “You’re okay. You’re in our home. I’m John Blake, and this is my daughter, Daisy. How are you feeling?”

      Her muscles ached, and her head throbbed, so this answer came more easily. “Um, kind of beat-up.” She groaned, put her hands to her head, and rubbed her temples.

      “Don’t worry. He’s a doctor,” Daisy said, hugging her doll as if unconsciously trying to comfort Jennifer.

      “He is?” That sounded hopeful.

      “A doctor for animals,” Daisy amended.