Merry goddamn Christmas to me.
It’s the next morning. I left before sunrise, ready for my fresh start. That optimism didn’t last long.
I groan, staring at my rental car lodged in the ditch, front tire shredded beyond saving. Being stranded on Mistletoe Mountain thirty miles from the cabin was not on my holiday bingo-card. What even was that back there? Raccoons? Possums? Doesn’t matter. At least they get to live another day, unlike my nervous system.
For the third time, I lift my phone toward the morning rays, desperate for a cell signal. Still nothing. Over the years, I’ve learned I can fix just about anything with Wi-Fi and a little heart, but right now I’m lacking both. So much for a fresh start.
Lovely. Just lovely.
A chill runs down my spine as the mountain air stings my cheeks, despite the agitation simmering beneath my skin. I tighten my puffer jacket around me and take in my surroundings. The road stretches empty in both directions. Nothing but dew-covered loblolly pine trees for miles, chirping songbirds and my shallow breathing.
Back in the car to escape the cold, the sun blasts through the windshield, giving me far-too-early hot flashes. Yet it’s too cold to stand outside for long. Or maybe I’m just not used to NorthCarolina winter anymore. Years of traveling meant I could dodge any threats of frigid weather.
Walking is the most logical solution versus doing nothing but staring into the abyss. The scent of my lukewarm eggnog latte tickles my nose, and I jump back to the present. I take a sip anyway, praying the caffeine gods take pity and drop a Christmas miracle. What feels like two hours, instead of twenty minutes, crawls by.Charlotte, you got this.With a deep exhale, I brace myself for an impromptu hike.
A faint crunch breaks through the quiet. I freeze, listening. Is someone coming? I snap my head up so fast I nearly spill what’s left of my latte all over my lap. I scramble out of the car, already preparing my most pathetic stranded-motorist face, adding a quick jingle to my hair for style. Otherwise, I could wait hours for another vehicle. This might be my only shot.
A truck appears around the bend. Red. Heavy-duty. The kind that actually belongs on roads like this, unlike my sad little rental, which the animals I swerved to miss are probably laughing at. Relief floods through me as it slows, pulling onto the shoulder behind my disaster of a morning.
“Oh, thank god,” I whisper to no one.
Standing in front of the car, I can only make out a silhouette of a woman sitting behind the wheel. The vehicle’s engine cuts off and the door swings open. The person steps out. Dark jeans, broken-in boots, a cognac leather bomber jacket. A cream and burgundy flannel peeks out beneath it. Their confident gait looks familiar, but I can’t register who it is.
Wait. No. The soft morning glow shifts and I see her face clearly.
The air escapes my lungs.Kezia?
She halts. “Charlotte?” She says my name, her faint southern accent confirming my reality.
Hair snug underneath a beanie and shadows hugging the lines of her rich copper complexion, I almost didn’t recognize her. I’m standing feet away from Kezia Langston.
“Kez?” The word croaks up my throat.
Heat flushes my cheeks as her gaze deliberately drags over me, head to toe. I open my mouth to speak, but only air comes out. She’s familiar in so many different ways. Face bare of makeup with only a light glossy shine on her full lips. Certainly more beautiful than I remember. My heart hammers in my chest when she approaches. I forgot what it feels like to be looked at like that.
An SUV zooms past, zapping us out of our staring contest. Her attention bounces from me to the rental car, then back to me.
“Are you hurt?” she asks.
I blink. “I—no.”
She’s inches away, close enough I catch the pale-yellow polish covering her fingernails instead of the white she used to wear. The faint scent of bergamot and sandalwood from her perfume is new but captures my attention.
The soft arch of her brow lifts as she studies my face. “You might be in shock. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
Shock? That’s an understatement. Certainly not from how the car got into the ditch. But from the fact that I thought I’d never see her again, and I still can’t catch my breath when she’s near.
I run my fingers through my hair. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” After circling the car, she turns to face me. “She’s pretty stuck.”
My brain scrambles for the one sentence I should say.Can you call a tow truck?Or,could I borrow your phone?
“Could you give me a ride?” The words fall from my lips before I stop them. Did I really just say that out loud? I clear my throat. “My place isn’t far from here. A ride would be greatly appreciated.”
“Uh yeah, of course. Wait. You live around here, now?” Time stops as her deep brown eyes hold mine.
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth and nod slowly. “I bought a cabin.”
