Читать книгу Christmas Wish Come True - Jaimie Admans - Страница 9
ОглавлениеIsabella Stevens fought the urge to rebel against the hushed quiet that surrounded her. Even the school halls seemed to know how she’d be spending the long Thanksgiving weekend, not to mention the Christmas holidays.
Alone.
She looked down at her heavy snow boots, tempted to kick them off and slide across the polished floor in her stockinged feet. Maybe it would help her to forget her canceled plans…
But no.
She was an adult, and a teacher. And even though this job was temporary, she hoped to land a permanent position here at Snow Pass Elementary – the sooner the better.
She stopped at the door of the first grade classroom and adjusted her bag on her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she entered. She checked the clock above the door. Seven forty-five. Another half hour of silence until the children began to arrive. She walked to the window of the second-story room and looked out at the gray morning. The roads below were showing signs of the getaway-day hustle and bustle, and she briefly wondered how many of her students, if any, would be traveling out of town.
The last few days had been somewhat surreal – getting this job offer, arriving in Colorado, renting a room at an extended-stay hotel. Then the earlier-than-expected call-to-duty. Her plan was to go apartment hunting today, but the early arrival of Cindy Atwater’s baby yesterday had changed everything. With barely any time to catch her breath or familiarize herself with the city of Denver, Isabella was here at Snow Pass – one week ahead of schedule. Fresh off an airplane and a broken engagement – winging it.
She shook off her ‘newbie’ nerves. Oh well. It was one day of operating on blind instinct. She had the whole weekend to prepare for class on Monday. Today would be a ‘fun’ day – her alternate celebration, of sorts. An early introduction to her first friends, and job, in her new home state.
Isabella moved her focus to the variety of treats she’d brought for the party, arranging them on the long table in the back corner of the room. She frowned as she considered the weather and the holiday. Her intention was to go to the market after school let out, buy all the makings for a small Thanksgiving dinner for one, and snuggle in to her tiny efficiency before the predicted snowstorm hit. But even those plans seemed to be in question now.
She sighed. At least she had some soup in her cupboard in the event she had to go straight home this afternoon. Quite a contrast to the festive Thanksgiving she’d planned months ago – before everything fell apart. Little did she know then that she’d be celebrating what should have been her wedding day by doing her laundry, watching some romantic comedies provided by the hotel cable service, and being in bed by ten o’clock.
Yippee.
The sound of little feet running on the polished concrete drew Isabella’s attention to the door. She smiled with relief, moving to greet the first wonderful student who had made her day seem a little less pitiful by showing up. A deep voice echoed down the hall and stopped her at the door.
“Tyler – slow down! Haven’t you been taught not to run inside?”
The tiny footsteps ceased as Isabella peeked around the doorway. A young boy who she assumed was one of her students was standing twenty feet away, staring up at the serious face of a tall man dressed in dark jeans, a crisp white shirt, leather jacket, and boots. Isabella’s instant attraction to the man warred with her disapproval of his tone with the child.
If this student was the Tyler Butler that the administrator had spoken briefly to her about, then he was only recently transferred to Snow Pass – and she’d been informed that he was seeing the school psychologist three times a week. Before the administrator could explain why, he was called away, and their discussion was cut short. Isabella wondered now if Tyler’s problem could be as simple as the insecurity of being the new kid, or if it was something more.
As if sensing her scrutiny, the man turned. Even from this distance, Isabella could see the color of his eyes. Green. Intense. Snaring her. Isabella’s heart thrummed against her rib cage; her breath drew in sharply. And her desire to defend her young student became momentarily quashed as her tongue stuck to the roof of her suddenly parched mouth. Thankfully, he spoke first.
“I apologize for my nephew’s disregard for safety, Miss…?”
Isabella swallowed. “Hello. I’m Miss Stevens – Tyler’s substitute teacher.”
She moved into the classroom, aware of them following behind her. She stopped in front of her desk, grasping its edge as she leaned against it. “I’m happy you’re here today, Tyler.” Isabella smiled warmly at the boy. “I’m going to be your teacher until Mrs. Atwater returns.”
He nodded shyly, then moved to the toys at the back of the classroom. Isabella slowly lifted her eyes to the face of the man beside her, flustered by the electricity that seemed to bounce between them as she tried to think of the right words to say on Tyler’s behalf. She was distracted by the strong, sharp line of the man’s jaw and the sensual curve of his lips. His striking looks and sizzling sex appeal, coupled with the fact that Isabella was still upset by his stern tone, made their meeting even more awkward.
“I would think you could overlook Tyler’s running in the hall,” she said quietly. After all, I wanted to do the same thing a short while ago. “I mean, considering his…special needs.” She made an effort to sound professional, despite her all-over-the-place thoughts.
The man seemed surprised at first. He let out a long breath and shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his gaze to the window. “You’re right, of course.” He forced a half smile, then looked at her again. “I apologize. Tyler has been staying with me, but I’m new to all this…to having a kid around.” He shook his head and looked at his watch. Isabella got the impression he was uncomfortable with their conversation. Which only increased her curiosity.
“Forgive my questions – today’s my first day,” she explained. “Is Tyler staying with you temporarily…Mr. Butler, I presume?”
For a split second, he looked almost confused. “Sorry…yes, on both counts. I’m Jordan Butler.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then focused on the young boy. “I’m Tyler’s uncle and…temporary guardian.”
“Oh…his parents left him in your care?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, then he gave a nod. “Yes,” he said stiltedly. “That’s a delicate way of putting it.” He took a step back, toward the door. “Look, I don’t have time for an impromptu parent/teacher meeting right now. My nephew will ride the bus most days, but I drove him today, due to the weather.” He hesitated, then said, “Can we finish this conversation next week sometime?”
“Of course…” Her words faded on her lips as he made a quick exit. A group of students entered the classroom, and Isabella welcomed them in, still processing the information her encounter with Jordan Butler had produced. All she’d managed to learn was that Tyler was staying with his uncle, who didn’t seem to be very comfortable with the arrangement. She focused on the quiet child playing with building blocks in the corner. She didn’t know what, exactly, was wrong – but he seemed lonely. She could relate.
She walked to the front of the class, summoning her brightest smile.
“Please take your seats, everyone.” She waited to continue until all the children were sitting quietly at their desks, Tyler included. “I’m Miss Stevens, your substitute teacher. Mrs. Atwater is staying home with her new baby for the next few weeks. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you and learning lots of things in our short time together.” She led them in the pledge of allegiance, then took attendance, mentally matching the faces with the names.
When the usual morning duties were completed, she smiled again. “I know tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, but I thought we’d start the festive Christmas season a bit early, by writing letters to Santa today. Take your time; do your best to write neatly. And at snack time, we’ll place all our letters in the basket on the back table and have some holiday treats. Won’t that be fun?”
Most of the other students let out whoops and hoorays, eagerly taking out their paper and pencils. But Tyler sat still, staring down at his hands on the desk. Isabella went to him and bent down slightly, hoping to sound cheerful. “Tyler, wouldn’t you like to write to Santa and tell him what you want for Christmas this year?”
“No.” He lowered his head and hid his face in the bend of his arm.
Isabella wondered if she should send him to talk to the school psychologist right now. But she waited a few moments, then whispered, “I’ll make a deal with you. If you write a letter to Santa, I will, too. Okay?” She went back to her desk and sat down, taking out a pen and notepad.
Tyler peeked up from the crook of his arm. Sensing him watching, Isabella made a show of it. She rolled her eyes upward, her pen poised at the corner of her mouth. “It’s been so many years…Santa’s probably forgotten me by now.” She mumbled so only Tyler, whose desk was directly in front of hers, could hear. “Maybe I shouldn’t write a letter either – then Santa won’t have to worry about bringing what I want this year.”
She was pleased when Tyler whispered back, “I’ll tell him to remember you.”
Isabella made eye contact with her student. “All right – it’s a deal.”
She smiled again as Tyler seemed to forget his recent refusal and dove into writing. She looked down at her blank piece of paper. She had to hold up her end of it, but she was clueless what to write. She thought of her ex, the man directly responsible for her current state of cynicism. She smirked, feeling reckless. What the heck – this letter will get tossed in a bin at the post office anyway…
Dear Santa,
This Christmas, I want a man who is breathtaking and gallant. A hero with a heart of gold. Please send a man who wants only me – someone who thinks I’m more beautiful than the snow on Christmas morning. Make him intelligent, and impossibly sexy. And, if this man really exists, could you make sure he’ll love me – for keeps?
Sincerely,
Isabella Stevens
She was so immersed in her vision of the ideal man, Isabella didn’t notice when Tyler finished writing. He was actually smiling at her as she glanced up from her letter.
“You were dreaming with your eyes open,” Tyler said.
Isabella did her best to hide her embarrassment. “I guess I was – sort of.” The person I asked for only exists in dreams. “You finished your letter quickly, Tyler,” she continued. “Are you sure you remembered to list everything you want for Christmas?” None of the other students seemed close to finishing, she noted, amused.
Tyler nodded. “It was easy. I only asked for two things.”
“That’s very unselfish, Tyler. I’m sure Santa will like that.”
“Miss Stevens?” Tyler said.
“Yes, Tyler?”
“Do you really think Santa will bring what I want this year?” A brief hope glimmered in his eyes, and Isabella was careful not to douse the tiny spark she’d managed to ignite in him.
“Such a short list should be well within Santa’s range of magic. As long as you’re good, I’m sure he’ll do his best.”
Tyler seemed content with her answer, if not completely convinced. But Isabella was simply happy for the subtle change in his mood. She went back to her own letter, adding one more wish to her list.
P.S. Please try extra hard to make Tyler Butler’s wish come true.
***
At eleven a.m., the announcement came over the speaker for an early dismissal, due to the worsening weather. Isabella glanced out the window, checking the sky. The clouds had begun to drop their snowflakes a bit early. The morning news had forecast heavy snow for later in the day. But the looming darkness that framed the Rocky Mountain horizon had her wondering once again if she’d have time to go grocery shopping, even with the early release.
A little after eleven-thirty, all of the buses and students had departed. Except Tyler. He seemed oblivious to his uncle’s tardiness. But Isabella was incensed over Jordan Butler’s apparent disregard for his nephew’s needs, let alone his feelings. She wondered how Tyler’s parents had come to entrust their child to him. And why did Tyler’s uncle agree to look after the boy if he didn’t have time for him?
Isabella checked with the office. They’d called Jordan Butler at her request after the initial announcement was made. They assured her he was on his way. Isabella got his number from the secretary, and even tried to call him a few times from her cell. But each time, his phone went directly to voice mail. She noted the gathering snow on the ground below, then looked over at her quiet student. The only sounds in the room were the nervous tapping of her foot, and the wind howling outside the glass windows. She decided to save time and put their coats on.
After another ten minutes, Isabella rationalized that Jordan Butler must be getting close to the school. She gathered her briefcase and bag of leftover goodies. Then, as an afterthought, collected the Dear Santa letters and stuffed them into her purse. Hoping to bring a smile to young Tyler’s sad face, she said brightly, “I’d better get these sent off today, so Santa will receive them in plenty of time.” He didn’t smile, but there was a slight sparkle in his eye as Isabella led him into the hallway. They made their way down to the entrance of the school. If Jordan Butler didn’t show up soon, Isabella would have to take her student to the office to wait for him.
Tyler stared outside for a moment, then looked up at her. “Can we go out and catch snowflakes on our tongues?”
Isabella hesitated at first, then decided it might lighten his mood, and hers, to have a little fun. “Okay, Tyler. But I’ll have to put my bags in my car first.”
They went outside and headed to the parking lot. There were only a few cars left at the school, belonging to the office personnel still at work. She held Tyler’s hand as they walked hurriedly to her car. As she started to unlock the driver’s side door, the purr of an engine pulled up behind them. Relieved, she turned to stare into the unsmiling face of Jordan Butler as he got out of his large black truck.
“Where are you taking my nephew?”
He was angry, but Isabella gave him credit for hiding it in front of Tyler. Equally upset with him – not only for his late arrival, but also for thinking she was some sort of kidnapper – she still managed to remain calm.
“I’m not taking him anywhere…” she began. “I was just putting my things in my car. I tried to call you several times…” She offered no apology, only lifted her chin defiantly, waiting for his response.
It seemed like minutes passed – enough time for Isabella to observe the large snowflakes landing in Jordan Butler’s dark hair, and absently wanting to brush them away with her fingers. Enough time for her to completely forget why she’d been infuriated with him in the first place, as she met the shimmering gaze of his electric eyes. Tyler’s small voice broke into their silence.
“We’re gonna catch snow on our tongues.”
Jordan looked at his nephew, this time with relief and a touch of amusement, before turning his focus back to Isabella. “You’re his teacher – I should have known he was safe with you,” he conceded.
“Of course he is,” she began, then lowered her voice. “As his new teacher…I’d like to talk to you about his…situation. When it’s convenient.”
Jordan’s expression was mysterious, and cooler than the wind that blew around them. He smiled politely, but only nodded his agreement to her request. He bent down and lifted the small boy in his arms.
“Thank you for looking after my nephew, Miss Stevens. I apologize for being late, but an accident was slowing traffic on the Interstate. I couldn’t get a signal on my cell to call the school.” He hesitated, waiting for her to speak.
Isabella found her voice. “My apologies as well. I should have realized it was something like that.”
Jordan’s smile was genuine, and Isabella felt herself go warm all over as Tyler chimed in, “Promise you won’t forget to mail the letters, Miss Stevens.”
“I won’t forget, Tyler,” she reassured him, a bit shakily. “I promise.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Miss Stevens,” Jordan said.
Isabella stood there breathless, watching as Jordan first lifted Tyler into the truck, then got in the driver’s side and drove off into the heavy snowfall.
***
Isabella’s Thanksgiving dinner would consist of baked turkey breast, instant mashed potatoes and gravy, canned green beans, and dinner rolls. Followed by a piece of apple pie, topped with vanilla ice cream, for dessert. Then she’d finish the evening with a glass of Pinot Noir while watching her favorite chick flick, The Goodbye Girl, on the classic movie channel.
All by herself.
She hurried down the grocery aisle, making her way to the checkout counter. She was only a couple of miles from the hotel, but the sky was becoming so dark, it could easily have been five o’clock in the afternoon instead of one p.m. As the cashier totaled her groceries, Isabella reached into her pocketbook for her wallet. The stack of letters the class had written, hers and Tyler’s on top, were tucked inside. She was disappointed she hadn’t mailed them first, when Tyler had reminded her to do so such a short time ago. She rationalized that the weather had distracted her. But in reality, it was Tyler’s uncle who had occupied most of her thoughts in the last hour or so. The questions swirled in her head as she shopped.
Why was Jordan Butler so abrupt? Why was Tyler staying with him? Why was she still thinking about the snowflakes in his hair? Why the hell was she wondering any of this at all?
After paying for her items, Isabella looked out at the storm, concerned about backtracking to the post office downtown. She shook her head and glanced at the clerk, her guilty conscience propelling her to ask, “Do you know of a box nearby, specifically designated by the post office for ‘Santa’ mail?” Isabella had heard of the program on the evening news, where postal employees and volunteers from charitable organizations would collect letters to Santa from the holiday boxes and, in some cases, make the children’s wishes come true.
The clerk chewed her gum and rolled her eyes. “Oh,” she finally said, as if the thought suddenly occurred to her. “I think there’s a Santa box up on Reindeer Ridge, off Highway 36, about ten minutes north of here. At the Toy Shop. It just opened this week for the holiday season. But you’ll have to hurry. I’m sure they’ll be closing soon, with the weather.”
Isabella thanked the young girl and hurried to her car, intent on keeping her promise to Tyler. The roads were still manageable and, if the clerk was right, Isabella would save time and miles by going up to Reindeer Ridge to drop off the letters.
Minutes later, she slowly navigated the mountain road, trying not to think about the dangers, focusing instead on her mission. But as the path narrowed with the rapid snow accumulation, Isabella began to think she should stop, turn around. She hadn’t passed anyone on the drive up, and she had the sinking feeling that she was already too late.
She mentally scolded herself again, then saw twinkling lights through the trees about half a mile up. Yes! She would deliver the letters, then head for home before the roads became too icy.
Isabella inched her car toward the Christmas lights. The Toy Shop came into view as she got closer. Festive Christmas decorations adorned the painted glass windows of the lodge-style structure. Near the entrance, a huge lighted Christmas tree captured her attention. Through the heavy snowfall, the enchanting scene beckoned. But, as Isabella’s eyes scanned for human activity, her gaze came to rest on the red CLOSED sign in the front window. Her hopes sank.
The letters would have to wait.
Isabella softly cursed as she reversed the car. She steered the tires around, then felt a sudden bump. Looking behind her, she realized she’d nearly knocked over a large red mailbox. The gold lettering painted on it indicated ‘Santa Mail’. Of course – it was outside!
Relieved, Isabella put the car into park. She hurriedly stepped out, taking the letters from her purse. She opened the box and stuffed them inside. Except hers. Snowflakes landed on the envelope that housed her wish. She wondered who, if anyone, would read her words, and she was beginning to regret writing them. She certainly wasn’t looking for what – or who – she’d asked for. In her attempt to engage Tyler, she’d gotten carried away by a fantasy she’d once believed in – until her ex fiancé, Phillip, showed her how cruel real life could be.
But surely no one would recognize the name of the new girl in town, who’d asked for lightning to strike – for a gallant hero to swoop into her life and love her. She shrugged her concerns away and shoved her letter into the box with the others, before she changed her mind. What she wished for didn’t matter. Anyway, not even ‘Santa’ magic could conjure up the kind of man she could take a chance on again.
The wind blew harder and Isabella turned up the collar of her coat as she hurried into her car. She started the engine, thankful she’d fulfilled her promise to Tyler. Now, home. She stepped on the gas, spinning the tires on the new-fallen snow. With a sinking heart, she realized she’d backed herself into a ditch. She tried every trick her father taught her to maneuver the vehicle onto the road, but nothing worked. She checked her cell phone, but there was no signal. She looked behind her at the Toy Shop, seeing no signs of people. Still, she had to try.
She left her car again and walked toward the Christmassy shop, her chin tucked in against the wind. She was awarded some shelter on the wraparound porch as she knocked on the front door. After a few moments, she tried again, then checked the handle. The door was locked. It dawned on her that she was stranded. She swallowed her panic as the sky became darker and the wind picked up. It was about a mile down the mountain road to the main street.
I’m in good shape. I can make it.
But a few minutes later, Isabella could barely feel her frozen feet, even though she’d replaced her heels with her snow boots before leaving the school. She urged herself to keep going, and prayed it wouldn’t take long to walk to safety. She was almost more embarrassed for getting herself into this predicament than worried about surviving it. But then she looked ahead of her, horrified to find she’d ventured off the main road.
She stopped, suddenly frightened. Every direction looked the same. She turned to follow her footprints back the way she’d come. But the snow had already covered them up. On reflex, she cried, “Help!” The howling wind was all that answered back. “Help, help!” she yelled again, falling to her knees in a moment of defeat.
I’m going to die out here…mailing letters to Santa. So much for getting what she asked for.
“Hello…” The deep voice of an angel was carried on the wind, reaching Isabella’s ear. “Miss Stevens…” it called. She shook her head, thinking it was a hypothermia-induced hallucination. Then the dark figure of her rescuer emerged through the blinding snow. Isabella struggled to stand as he reached her. He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her onto her feet. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed her head into his chest as relief, and his strong arms, enveloped her. She found comfort in his steady breathing as he brushed his hand over her hair.
She was going to live… He had saved her.
“Miss Stevens.” The man’s voice was urgent, concerned. He was too good to be true, an answer to a prayer, and Isabella tingled all over. She huddled closer to his warmth against the wind. When she came to her senses enough to realize he’d said her name, she looked up. Her breath caught as her gaze connected with those unmistakable green eyes…
Jordan Butler.
“Lady, when you make a promise, you really deliver on it, don’t you?” His expression was relieved and furious at the same time. “Your foolish sincerity nearly got you killed!”
Before she could respond, Jordan scooped her into his arms and carried her a surprisingly short distance to his truck. He deposited her into the leathery plush passenger seat, then slammed the door shut with a force that startled her. Isabella watched, dazed, as he went to her car and retrieved her groceries and purse. When he got into his truck next to her, she asked, “What about my car?”
“I’m taking you home, Miss Stevens. You need to thaw out and get a good night’s sleep. First thing in the morning, I’ll pick you up and we’ll come back for it.”
“But…tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” Isabella reminded him softly.
He briefly glanced her way, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I guess you’ll have to put up with me for part of the holiday then.”
Pushing back the pathetic thrill she got from the prospect of not spending all of Thanksgiving Day alone, she asked, “How did you know…?
“I dropped Tyler off with a friend, who asked me to run a last-minute errand in town.” Jordan shook his head, his eyes glinting down at her. “I thought I saw your car turn toward Reindeer Ridge, so I decided to come out – to make sure you were okay.” His voice held a hint of impatience, but his words warmed Isabella to the core. Gallant.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded but said nothing more. When they’d reached the main road, Isabella softly stated her address. Then she closed her eyes and breathed again, as Jordan carefully maneuvered the big warm truck through the storm.
