A Wedding in December

“You?” She dragged her gaze from Snowfall Lodge to his profile. “I thought you were a tree surgeon?”

“I also work with wood.”

“So I am sleeping twenty feet above the ground, in something you built. If I fall, I’m going to sue you.” But the sense of relief was overwhelming. The place was idyllic. Like her own private corner of the forest. Lights shone from the tree house, lending a warm glow to the wood. A large Christmas tree was visible through one of the windows and snow had settled on the railing around the deck.

Her tension levels, permanently stuck in the red zone for months, finally eased. That tiny adjustment to her equilibrium gave her hope. If she couldn’t relax and unwind here in this enchanting, almost otherworldly place, she wouldn’t be able to unwind anywhere. It felt a million miles from the crowded streets of London and her small cramped house. A million miles from her real life.

Jordan gestured to a winding path, illuminated by lights strung through the trees. “We have to walk from here. There’s a bridge over the creek and it can be icy. You’ll need to be careful.”

Deep snow smothered the contours of the surroundings. Katie decided that the world seemed a better place when it was covered in snow. Softer. Fewer hard edges.

“I’ll be fine.” She saw her sister appear in the window and waved.

Was Rosie mad with her because she’d asked if they could share for the first few nights? She’d used Christmas as the excuse—Christmas is our time together—but the truth was that she wanted time alone with her sister so she could try to understand what had triggered this wildly impulsive decision. And if Rosie and Dan really were getting married (heaven help all of them), a few nights apart wouldn’t kill them, would it?

Having reasoned her guilt back into submission, she stepped out of the car and felt the cold seep through her clothing. She’d always hated winter, but now she realized that what she hated was winter in London and those long dreary days that cloaked everyone in gloom. Rain that soaked through shoes and turned a girl from dressed up to drowned rat. This was different. Here, the air was dry and crisp, and above her a million stars studded the clear night sky. This was winter as she’d always imagined it should be. Not dark, damp and dispiriting, but light and bright and crisp.

She breathed in, savoring the delicious smells. A hint of wood smoke. Fir trees. It made her think of those Christmases when she was young, when she and her mother had taken Rosie to choose a tree. They’d argued about the size and then trudged home with it and dressed its lush, spiky branches with decorations stored from year to year in a special box. Her mother had treasured each one. There was a star Katie had made in school the year Rosie was born. A wonky angel Rosie had made in the hospital the Christmas she’d had a bad asthma attack. Then there were the weird and wonderful decorations her father brought home from his travels. A jeweled camel that sparkled under the lights, handblown glass ornaments picked up from a bazaar in Cairo.

There would be no star this year. No tree dressed with memories.

Katie blinked. It wasn’t like her to get emotional. Any minute now she’d be crying on his shoulder. She could imagine what he’d make of that. “Thanks for the ride, Jordan.”

“Are you going to forgive me for teasing you?”

“Maybe next century.”

“Good to know you have a sense of humor.” He retrieved her suitcase. “I’ll carry this up for you.”

“I’ve already proved I can carry my own suitcase, and given that I don’t have to climb a rope with it,” she sent him a look designed to wither, “I can manage.” Truthfully she wasn’t looking forward to carrying the case because she was still nurturing her bad shoulder, but she had another perfectly good free hand and she’d rather dislocate both shoulders than ask for help from him.

“The bridge might be icy. They clear it every day, but sometimes it’s—”

“Don’t tell me. There’s a troll in the water that might leap out and eat me. I’ll handle it.” A flood of light illuminated her surroundings and she glanced up and saw Rosie framed by the doorway. Her sister was wearing a warm cable-knit sweater, a pair of skinny jeans and thick socks. Katie felt a rush of love so powerful it took her breath away. Whenever she saw Rosie after a stretch of time, she remembered her as a toddler. Affectionate. Trusting. “Thanks, Jordan. See you at the wedding.”

She wasn’t sorry to leave him behind. She’d felt a wider range of emotion trapped in a car with him for five hours than she had in the past five months. She hoped they wouldn’t be spending much time together.

“I’ll help you over the bridge.”

Katie felt her temper snap. “Because I’m a woman? Because you think my DNA makes me less capable of walking than you? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class from the best medical school in London. I average twenty thousand steps a day, on a quiet day, and I’ve managed to stay upright for all of them.”

“I believe you, but that doesn’t mean you have the right—”

“The right what? I can assure you I have everything I need.” She hauled her suitcase over the snow and realized right away that this wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be. For a start, the surface wasn’t smooth. The path had obviously been cleared earlier but another layer of snow had fallen since then and it was slick and icy. Still, at least the creek was frozen so if she fell in she wasn’t going to drown.

As she hauled her case, she started to sweat. And she still had to carry it up those charming, but frighteningly twisty stairs to the front door. To make it worse Jordan was watching, which meant that if she fell her pride would be broken along with her bones.

Why didn’t the man leave?

When she reached the bridge she felt her feet start to slither and grabbed for the handrail, but it was buried under a pile of snow. Her legs went from under her and she was wondering if Jordan was the type to say I told you so, when strong arms grabbed her and held her firmly.

“I was trying to tell you that you didn’t have the right footwear. You’re mad at me, I get it, but take my help now and be mad at me later.” Jordan’s voice was in her ear, deep and steady. It should have made her feel safe, but somehow it didn’t. She’d never needed anyone before and she didn’t want to need anyone now, not even to help negotiate an icy slope. She needed some evidence that she was still the same person she’d always been. Competent. Independent.

“I slipped on purpose, to give you a chance to rescue me and then feel good about yourself.” It was because she was locked against hard muscle that she felt him laugh.

“I knew there was a sense of humor buried in there somewhere. And you’re right, of course. I can’t sleep at night unless I’ve rescued at least ten trees and five maidens in distress during the course of my working day.”

There was something about his solid strength that was annoyingly comforting. “Do I seem in distress to you?”