Saving Christmas by Pamela Bauer

Author:Pamela Bauer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“She’s hung up but good. You’re going to have to get a tow,” Frank Feester told Sara when it became apparent that no amount of effort on his part was going to get the station wagon out of the ditch.

“Thank you for trying, Frank,” Sara said as he unhooked the chain connecting the two vehicles.

“There’s an old fence running along that ditch. Looks to me like you’re hooked on one of the posts,” he said as he got to his feet and threw the thick coil of chain into the back of the pickup.

“Where’s the closest service station that will send out a tow truck?” Joe asked.

“That’d be Fritz’s back in Christmas,” Frank answered. “Hop in and I’ll give you a ride back to town.”

“No, that’s all right. If you’ll just take us to the nearest phone, we won’t need to take up any more of your time,” Joe said.

“That’d be in Christmas, too. I got a CB in the truck. I can contact the missus and she can call someone for you, but you’re going to get pretty cold waiting out here for someone to come.”

“We’ll take the ride,” Sara finally spoke up, annoyed that Joe acted as if he were in charge. After all, it was her car, not his.

“Just let me make room,” Frank said, opening the door to the cab where he had to move a pile of stuff that included an ice-fishing bucket, tip-ups and a bag of minnows. The ice bucket and tip-ups he threw in the back, but the minnows he handed to Sara. “Hold these, will you? They’ll freeze in the back.”

Sandwiched between Frank Feester and Joe, holding a plastic bag with shiners swimming inside was not how Sara had expected to return to town that afternoon. Besides being trapped between two distinctive scents—tobacco on her left and cologne on her right—she had to snake her legs around the stick shift, which made it impossible not to bump against Joe as the aging pickup rumbled down the snow-rutted road.

Fortunately Frank kept up a steady conversation about the trials and tribulations of winter in Minnesota. Sara didn’t dare look at Joe. Not after what had happened between them at the cabin. She had been avoiding his eyes ever since Frank had put a stop to their unexpected passionate encounter.

She tried to focus on the road, looking straight ahead and not at him, but her eyes were drawn to his hands. They were folded in his lap, holding his leather gloves. Absently his thumb rubbed the rough suede fabric, and Sara was reminded of how that thumb had rubbed across her breast. A shiver of longing ricocheted through her.

“You cold?” Frank asked.

“No, I’m fine,” she; answered, hoping the heat that was warming her limbs wouldn’t send a flush to her cheeks.

“So what are you doing for a living these days?” Frank asked Joe.

“I’m in finance,” he answered.

Sara could tell by the brevity of his answer that he didn’t want to expand on just what it was he did in finance, but Frank was a curious guy.

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