Under the Mistletoe, page 11
part #1 of Home to Heritage || Book Five Series
“Trust me!” Rand’s voice carried as he emphasized those words. “I want to keep her alive.”
As much as she’d watched the field training, Astryn had never raised a weapon in her life, but she was out of options. Her hand wrapped around the worn leather handle of the knife, and she locked eyes with Rand again. He inched forward.
Astryn closed her eyes as she pulled the blade and, with everything she had, thrust it into what she hoped was the muscle of his leg.
“Ahhh!” The man stumbled forward, and Astryn pushed away from his loosened grip. She stepped aside as Rand advanced, his eyes never wavering from the attacker.
Rand strode over to the thug, who was holding his dagger in a quavering hand in a feeble defense. Rand sent the dagger flying with a flick of his sword and kicked him to the ground.
He glanced back to Astryn, then nodded. “You did good.”
Rand untied a leather strap from his leg, pulled the man’s hands away from the blade in his leg, and tied them behind his back. The blood was already soaking his pant leg. “I’d leave that knife there. I don’t have any way to stop the bleeding if you pull it out.”
The guy cursed at Rand and collapsed, unconscious from pain or maybe loss of blood. But it didn’t matter. He couldn’t hurt her now. She raised her shaking hand to brush away her hair, but it was stained with blood. That horrible man’s blood.
Rand stood over her. “Are you all right?”
She tried to answer, but an invisible weight seemed to be pressing on her chest. Her legs began to shake and then gave way. She landed on her knees, then dropped to a sitting position.
Rand knelt beside her in the dirt. “Astryn, are you hurt?”
She rubbed at the blood on her finger. “I can’t get it off. It won’t come off.”
Rand cupped her hands in his, covering the few drops of blood. “You’re safe, Astryn. Everything is going to be okay. Are you hurt?”
“I couldn’t stop him. They took me.” She tried to shake her head, but the movement was jerky. What was wrong with her? “I tried to leave a trail. I thought. I hoped—”
“You did good, Astryn. Real good.” Rand brushed her hair away from her face, still scanning her for injury. He must have been satisfied because the tension in his shoulders finally loosened, and he crushed her to his chest, cradling her head. Was he shaking? “I found you. You are safe now.”
The tender words came out just above a whisper, and the gentleness of the moment broke her last thread of control. Her body trembled as a stream of tears poured forth. Here in Rand’s arms, she was safe. She didn’t have to be proper. Controlled. She was free to feel it all.
The fear. The relief. And especially the unfairness. How could she love and be loved by a man so perfectly, and yet she would never be—could never be—his?
“Close your eyes and picture your little glade. What did you call it?” His hand smoothed over her hair.
“Craghaven.” She didn’t lift her head. Once they moved apart, the moment would vanish forever. Wrong or not, selfish or not, she wasn’t ready to let it go.
“Picture yourself in Craghaven. Sitting on your rock, soaking your feet in the cool water as the man you love builds you your little cottage.”
Astryn drew a slow breath, memorizing everything about the moment. The warmth of his skin coming through his tunic. The steady pounding of his heart, his musky scent that intoxicated her being. Even his breath against her cheek soothed her.
Astryn struggled to remember why this couldn’t work—why he couldn’t be hers.
“What does this man I love look like?”
Rand stilled as his heartbeat under her hand doubled in speed and his hold on her tightened.
She shouldn’t have asked that. But she wanted him to say it. Admit that he loved her, wanted her as much as she wanted him. To dream that perfect dream with her, of a world where he wasn’t only the man who rescued her but also the man who knew her heart so well that he’d carve out a quiet place in the glade for just the two of them.
But he didn’t say that. He just held her tight because he already knew the truth she refused to acknowledge. This was but a stolen moment. Nothing more.
She drew all her strength, leaned back, and lifted her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“You’re cut.” The distant look was back in Rand’s golden eyes as he tilted up her chin, exposing her neck. “His blade must have scratched you.”
Rand tore off a strip from the edge of his shirt and folded it over twice. Then, sliding one hand to support the back of her neck, he placed the cloth over her wound. His other arm came around her shoulders to support her, his attention fixed on the cloth.
Astryn closed her eyes. Rand had gone back to detached rescuer, but she wasn’t the same. Every inch of her had become aware of him. His warmth, his strength, his smile. She was being pulled toward him in every way. She had fallen for the brother she couldn’t have.
He hadn’t meant to use Devin’s idea of Rand rescuing Astryn, but when he’d sat down to write, the scene had just come out…at least ninety percent of it. Now he just needed an ending. Two o’clock on Friday afternoon. Logan stretched his neck and scanned the kitchen.
At this rate, he’d be spending his Friday night staring at his screen. Wasn’t he the life of the party.
He was the author of some of the best-selling books of the decade. He could handle finishing this one ridiculous scene. Logan stood and walked around the kitchen and back. He’d tried writing in almost every room of the house, he’d run on his mom’s treadmill, he’d even made cookies, and he wasn’t into baking. He just couldn’t find the right words.
Logan reread what he had for chapter ten and then again. It needed more, but what? Logan poised his hands over the keys but…nothing. This was supposed to be a key moment between them. But even now…Blank. Nothing. Maybe because this scene hadn’t been his plan.
It was moving the story in the wrong direction. He needed to be showing how Astryn and Orin were the right match, not Rand and Astryn. Rand would never settle. Rand may be the man of adventure, as Devin called him. But someone needed to stay home and be responsible for the kingdom, not traipse off to Switzerland giving people rides on their dangerous gliders. And there was value to the dark-haired, steady hero. Not every hero had to be blond and charming.
Okay, so maybe there was a deeper reason Logan hated it. Because this scene just seemed to be proving that Devin wanted—no, needed—someone like Liam or Greyson in her life, not him. How had she described Orin? Focused and intentional. That summed up Logan pretty well and was clearly not attractive to Devin.
Well, guess what? Rand was plotted to die. Bet that was a twist Devin didn’t see coming. Orin was the better fit for her, and she needed real-life tragedy to see it. But if he published this scene, he wasn’t sure he could kill off Rand without his fans hating him.
Logan pushed to a stand again. He needed to clear his head.
He hurried up to his room and grabbed his shoes. The boxes of charms he had yet to give Devin were piled on his dresser. Maybe he could deliver one tonight. He hadn’t given her any since the ice skate five days ago. He had ended up buying a total of eight charms, all Christmas-themed, so he still had seven more to give her, and if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t get them all delivered by Christmas.
He grabbed the box with the snowflake charm in it and hurried down the stairs only to find Cal waiting by the door. He’d been out recently, so no doubt the dog was hoping for a ride. Logan knelt down and buried his hands in Cal’s fur. “Not this time. I won’t be too long.”
He snagged his coat from by the door, then hurried out to his Bronco. He made his way to the heart of Heritage and parked along the curb between Luke’s and Libby’s houses. He grabbed the box and scanned the area before climbing out and hurrying toward Devin’s porch. He’d leave the box on her mat. That was easy enough.
The falling snow must have sent people inside. Not one person walked in the square or on any of the sidewalks he could see. It was after two, and he needed to get the charm dropped off before the school buses arrived and the place was swarming with kids, including his nephews. He climbed her steps, taking care not to make a sound, and set the box on the mat. He turned to leave when movement in the window caught his eye. Devin was sitting on the couch by the front window with her head in her hands. Was she crying?
Should he knock on the door? What was he supposed to say? I was peeking through your window and saw you crying? Stalker much? But he couldn’t just leave either. Not without making sure she was okay.
As if on cue, a small dog barely bigger than his foot, with cream-colored fur and a spicy attitude, came running up the stairs and circled him with rapid barks. Well, that would get her attention.
Devin’s head jerked up. Her red-rimmed eyes landed on him. So she had been crying. She wiped at the tears, then hurried to the door. He bent down to pick up the dog, but that was a lost cause. The thing wouldn’t stand still.
“Logan?” The door cracked open. Her hair was down, hiding part of her face. “Oh, Pearl, how did you get out? Thank you for bringing her back.”
That’s not exactly how it went down, but he’d go with it. Devin opened the door, and the dog ran past her. But if she hadn’t realized the dog was gone, that probably wasn’t why she was upset. “Before you came to the door, I saw you in the window…is everything okay?”
She wiped away another tear, then brushed her hair over her shoulders. She hesitated for a moment. “Come on in.”
Logan stepped in and scanned the small space. Stairs rose in front of him, and a dining room sat to his left. Devin walked to the right, where there was a small sitting room with a couch, a couple of chairs, and a TV. In the middle of the coffee table sat a large cardboard box.
“I’m fine.” The red face and way she seemed to look anywhere but at him seemed to say otherwise, but she offered a dismissive wave toward the box. “The order is wrong.”
“The order is wrong?” Why would she cry over a bad order? There had to be more going on.
“I meant to order stockings with names on them but the ones they sent are blank. Fifty-six blank stockings.”
He started to respond but she started pacing.
“Fifty-six kids. I mean, that’s great. MaryLynn will love that number. But I advertised personalized stockings, and these are not them.”
It was like she had been uncorked and now couldn’t stop talking.
Devin paced the other direction. “If I give them these, then they’ll be upset and numbers will go back down again. I have glitter glue, but fifty-six stockings will take a while to make, plus they need time to dry.”
Logan stepped in her path and laid his hands on her arms. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Tears began to form again, and Logan pulled his hands back and shoved them in his pockets. She needed a solution, not him making a pass at her. But there had been something about that look that made him want to be the Rand in the story and comfort her, to tell her it was okay. To rescue her. Even if it was over a messed-up order rather than being kidnapped.
“Can’t someone help you?” Logan picked up one of the red stockings and ran his hand over the white fur at the top, then dropped it back in the box.
“Jess and Piper will be grading papers all night.”
“Have you asked anyone else? Hannah might—”
“I know Hannah and Janie have a girls’ night planned. And it not anyone’s fault but mine.” She shrugged and walked back to the door as if to dismiss him, but he wasn’t leaving her like this.
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is.” He planted his feet and crossed his arms in front of himself. “If you need help, I can help.”
“You?”
Ouch. She expected so little of him, that he wouldn’t help her if she needed it? Then again, maybe she didn’t want his help. Or maybe she just didn’t see him as the guy who rescued. She saw him as Orin. “Only if you want me to.”
He held his breath. Why did her answer mean so much to him?
“Do you have time?”
Nope. He still had a ton of work to do on the chapter that was due to go live in less than twelve hours, which meant Christina was waiting for it. But it wasn’t like he had an ending for it yet, anyway. “One second.”
He pulled out his phone and sent her a text.
Logan
How late can I send Chapter 10?
Her reply came back almost immediately.
Christina
We’re having a family game night, so I won’t get to it until about 11 pm. But I need it no later.
Logan
It’ll be there.
He checked the time. “There, I made time. Now, where do I start laying out the stockings?”
“Shoot.” Devin’s face wrinkled. “Jess claimed the dining room to work on grading, and Piper already claimed the living room. I was going to take them up to my room but—”
“Let’s take them to my parents’ house.” Hanging out with Devin in her room, even if they were only decorating stockings, was not where his head needed to be right now. “They have a great room where we can spread them out.”
He hefted the box and opened the front door, nearly stepping on the blue box that had started this whole adventure. Shoot. Although his near miss caught Devin’s attention as she looked around him.
“Oh.” Devin bent down and grabbed it. “Someone must have left this while we were talking.”
She opened the lid and, oh, the smile that spread across her face before she slipped it into her coat pocket. At least he got to see her open this one and know she liked them.
He carried the box of stockings down the sidewalk to his Bronco. Luckily it seemed like he’d been visiting family when he’d found the dog.
He opened the back and set the box in as Libby and Hannah climbed out of Hannah’s minivan. Hannah’s brown eyes jumped from him to Devin. “What are you two up to?”
Devin stopped next to him as he shut the back. “The stockings came in without names. Didn’t you two have a girls’ day?”
Hannah walked to the back of the van and pulled out a bag of groceries. “Leah’s and Caroline’s kids have the flu. We had to cancel.”
“Oh. Well, Logan was going to help me put names on these, but if you two are back then maybe—”
“No,” the two women said in unison, and Devin frowned.
Logan sent a look toward them. Subtle.
Hannah had the decency to look a little ashamed. But Libby just ignored him and rushed on to add, “You two have fun.”
Logan wanted to groan. Older sisters could be such a pain. He unlocked the passenger door for Devin, then walked around and got into the driver’s seat. “Sorry about them.”
“I didn’t think they minded helping me before, but maybe—”
“They don’t.” Logan started the car and flipped the heater on high. “That was about me, not you.”
She didn’t look convinced but let it drop. She pulled the blue box from her pocket and flipped it open again, her finger toying with the charm.
“What is it?”
“A snowflake. I think it’s to go on this.” She dug under the sleeve of her coat and produced the silver bracelet. She carefully hung the snowflake on the bracelet a few rings over from the skate. “I got the skate on the day we went ice skating and a snowflake the day it’s snowing. My Secret Santa is good. I will give her that.”
“Her? How do you know it isn’t a secret admirer?”
“Because this isn’t a movie. It’s my life. I think maybe it’s one of the moms. The moms of the kids in the program are so sweet to me.”
“Well, you deserve it. You work so hard and try to do so much for everybody.” When she just toyed with the bracelet, he pushed on. “Want to tell me why the order upset you so much?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I disagree.”
“In the moment, it felt bigger than the order.” She stared out the side window. “It was the burned down Christmas tree all over again.”
“You mean when made your own tree?”
“Sometimes it’s like I’m putting so much of my energy into something that I miss key details that result in…”
“The fireman being called?”
“Exactly. They didn’t mess up the order. I did. I ordered the wrong stockings. I set the tree on fire.”
The tears were back, and if the road were clearer, he would pull over and wrap his arms around her. But pulling over here wouldn’t be safe. He settled for handing her his scarf.
She used it to wipe her eyes, then folded it over. “I get excited about a project then lose focus of everything else and let people down and—”
“Hey, stop. You haven’t let anyone down. That energy you have also helps you create amazing things.” He reached out and squeezed her hand before quickly dropping it. “I’m sure the tree was amazing before…”
“Before it nearly burned the house down.” A laugh escaped as she wiped away a tear that had formed. “It actually was.”
“See? Focus on that.”
She wiped her face again. “Thank you, Logan.”
“For helping? Of course.”
“No. For just being you.” She rested her head back and turned her full face toward him. “For rescuing me from myself and my panic.”
He swallowed down a lump.
For rescuing me.
The words echoed around his heart. Maybe he could be Rand. And just maybe he could be the hero of her story.
seven
Logan might be a can without a can opener, but Devin seemed to be a faucet without a shut-off valve. How could she have blabbered all that to him? Devin’s gaze was fixed out the side window of the Bronco as he pulled to a stop at his parents’. It was still snowing, but the flakes were smaller than they had been before. When he didn’t move, she glanced back at him. He wore a slight grin as he watched her.
