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Over the River and Through the Woods, Page 6

Lacey Weatherford


  Smiling, he leaned in for another quick kiss. “That’s my girl! Let’s go see, shall we?” Throwing back the covers, he hopped out of the bed, grabbing his shirt off the floor and shrugging into it. The cooler air hit me and made me miss his warmth immediately. Quickly, getting out, I started making the bed.

  “What are you doing that for?” he asked, watching me as if I were doing something completely alien to him.

  “You’re kidding, right? Do you not know my mother at all? Everyone’s beds have to be made on Christmas morning and our hair has to be combed before we can open presents.”

  Micah laughed heartily. “Yeah, I can totally see your mom making everyone do that. She’s not here though; you realize that, don’t you?”

  I shrugged, continuing to make the bed. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t put it past her to ask me when I get home. You wouldn’t want to land me straight on the naughty list for next year, now would you?” I teased.

  Grinning, he winked at me. “Actually, I’d love to see you naughty, period.”

  “You’re terrible,” I responded with a laugh, shaking my head as he helped me finish. I could feel the blush stealing across my face at the thoughts I was having of him. He noticed and was clearly enjoying it, his eyes sparkling with mischief. As soon as we were finished, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs, eager to share Christmas Morning together; but, for the life of me, couldn’t figure out what he was so excited about.

  Dragging me into the living, my mouth dropped in awe when I saw two socks, hanging from the mantle over the fireplace, obviously stuffed full of something. My wet scarf, from yesterday, was now dry and draped like a garland around our small tree and someone had obviously stoked the fire during the night, as well, since it was still burning merrily.

  Micah turned to me, smiling widely. “That Santa. He’s a great ole guy, isn’t he? I knew we could count on him.”

  Pretending not to be impressed, I shook my head. “I don’t know. Seems to me like he could’ve thrown us in his sleigh and taken us home.”

  Micah pulled me toward the fire. “Like you said, he’s a busy guy. I’m positive he sent word to someone about us. Let’s see what he left, shall we?” Lifting one of the socks off the nail, he handed it to me.

  “How do you know this one is mine?” I asked. “They both look the same.”

  “If it isn’t, we can switch,” he responded, clearly still playing along as he removed the other for himself. Carrying mine to the couch, I waited until he sat beside me then stuck my hand in to pull out the first item, a snack pack of Oreo’s cookies. This was a surprise! I hadn’t seen anything like this in the pantry the night before. Reaching in again, I pulled out a pack of peppermint chewing gum, followed by a small bag of butterscotch candies and a single packet of hot chocolate mix.

  “Hot chocolate sounds wonderful for breakfast,” I said, imagining holding a warm mug of it in my hands. “How’d you manage to pull all this off without me knowing?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grinned. “Let’s see what’s in my sock, shall we?”

  “Okay.” I loved seeing this mischievous side of him. I watched as he pulled out all the same items for himself, but there was obviously something else in his sock. “What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide with amazement as he produced a key, holding it up for me to see.

  “I have no idea,” I replied, truthfully, wondering what he was up to.

  “It’s a key, silly.” He was obviously enjoying this game. “Surely you’ve seen one before?”

  “Duh.” I rolled my eyes as I playfully slapped at his shoulder. “But what’s it for?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess we will have to see if we can find the lock it fits.”

  Standing, he beckoned me to follow him and we searched for locks to try the key in. Unfortunately, I didn’t see anything it might go to. After looking through almost the whole place I tossed my hands in the air in defeat. “Maybe it goes to the front door,” I suggested, not wanting to step one foot out into the icy weather.

  “Maybe.” Leading me into the narrow entry hall, he paused by a door next to main entry. “But what is this? A door with a lock.” He gestured grandly toward it. “Let’s try it.”

  The key slipped in easily. I was pretty sure it was merely a coat closet, but gust of warm air hit me in the face as he opened the door to reveal a stairway leading down. A warm yellow glow flickered on the walls, giving off a welcoming ambiance, and a heavenly aroma quickly caught my attention.

  “What is that?” I asked, glancing over at him.

  “Must be another surprise from Santa,” he said. “Come on.” Grabbing my hand, he led me down into what appeared to be a basement game room, complete with a ping pong table. A warm fire was crackling away at the opposite end, heating the space; but what caught my eye was the delicious looking stack of what appeared to be blueberry pancakes on a plate on the hearth, next to a saucepan full of warm syrup.

  “Oh my gosh, Micah! This is amazing!” Turning, I threw my arms around him, wanting to thank him for his sweet gift. “You are so wonderful, but now I feel terrible.”

  “Why?” he asked, moving away slightly to look at me.

  “Because I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Hold on, now. I didn’t get you anything, either. This is from Santa,” he said emphatically, his eyes twinkling.

  “So he had time to stop and make us pancakes with—,” I spied a box and picked it up. “Just add water Blueberry Delight Mix, but he couldn’t do the dishes or give us a ride home?”

  Micah shrugged. “You know how it is. Santa, well, he’s getting on in years. I don’t really think he’s operating with a full bag of marbles these days.” He made a gesture near his ear, as if to symbolize Santa was crazy. “Come on! Let’s eat!” He handed me a plate and a fork. “After we’re done we can relive the Ping Pong Wars of the past that we used to have at my house when we were dating.”

  “Oh, you are so on!” I said, accepting his challenge as I recalled our heated battles. “I’m going to smoke you!”

  “Not a chance.” He grinned. “I’ve been practicing since you and I last played. There’s no way you can beat me, now.”

  “Oh, yeah? I’ll take that bet,” I said confidently.

  He laughed. “I see you’re still just as competitive as ever. I’m looking forward to it; but let’s eat first.”

  “You don’t have to twist my arm.” Sitting next to the hearth, I couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on my face as I began dishing up pancakes, slathering them with syrup. “Merry Christmas, Micah.” I handed the plate to him.

  “Merry Christmas, Felicity,” he said, accepting it happily and then leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Oh, and next time your mom tells you to comb your hair on Christmas morning, I want you to remember that I think it looks sexy this way and you should leave it.

  My eyes widened in horror as I realized what a mess I must look like. Raising a hand self-consciously, I started running my fingers through to tame it. His hand shot out and caught my wrist. “Don’t. I’m serious. You look amazing—like we’ve been in bed all night doing something—.”

  “Now who’s going to end up on the naughty list?” I interrupted, my blush growing hotter at the idea he was painting in my mind.

  “If that’s all it takes to get on the list, then I’m in trouble; because I can’t stop thinking about all the things I’d like to do with you.”

  Sighing, I busied myself with making my plate, before settling beside him. “Is it bad that sometimes I don’t want to be rescued? I mean, if it weren’t for the fact that I know we are ruining everyone else’s Christmas right now, I’d be content to just stay here a while and keep doing this.”

  “No, it’s not bad. I understand exactly what you mean. This Christmas has been very . . . eye opening, to say the least.”

  “I guess we have to go back to reality sometime, though.”

  “But, u
ntil then, I say you and I keep on enjoying ourselves.” He briefly patted my leg in an affectionate gesture, causing more of those tingles to rush through me. I thought his idea sounded fabulous.

  Chapter Nine

  The day had passed blissfully. True to his word, Micah had been practicing his ping pong, but that still didn’t stop me from destroying him, twelve games to six. For the most part, he was a good sport about it, fake crying only a little and accusing me of continuing to beat up on the injured guy, which only made me laugh even more.

  “You’re heartless, I tell you. Completely heartless,” he muttered.

  “Okay. If I’m that heartless, you don’t have to kiss me anymore.”

  “What?” he asked, looking shocked. “Well, if that’s the case, then I officially declare you the Ping Pong Champion of all time.” I couldn’t stop giggling at him as he grabbed me and planted his lips firmly against mine. “Nothing is allowed to get in the way of kissing you. That would be a crime.” It seemed as if I’d spent most of the morning giggling like a sixteen year old, now that I thought about it, but I loved every second of it.

  After the Ping Pong Wars, we headed upstairs and foraged for lunch, digging up a pen and notepad to write a letter to the homeowners with a list of everything we owed them. Once we were finished, we decided to sit down with our iPads and do a little afternoon reading, while they still had a charge. My story was good, but I felt my eyelids growing heavier, the more time that passed. I jumped in surprise when Micah suddenly elbowed me.

  “Hey! Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I asked, sitting up to listen. The sound of a motor grew closer and we both jumped up and ran toward the front door. Micah threw it open, running onto the porch in his bare feet as he waved his arms wildly over his head. “Hey!” he shouted. “Over here!”

  I wasn’t sure if they heard him or not, but it didn’t matter. Two snowmobiles were coming down the lane straight toward us. As they got closer, I could see it was two men with big orange vests marked Search and Rescue on them.

  “They found us!” I said, hugging Micah as I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Are you Micah Nickolaus and Felicity North?” the one on the left asked as they came to a halt.

  “Yes, we are.” Micah gripped me tighter. “Boy, are we happy to see you.”

  “We’re glad you’re all right. You have some mighty worried family members who are anxious for some news about you today. We were concerned that you might not have made it to shelter in the storm.”

  Both men climbed the snow covered steps and shook hands with us, introducing themselves as Officer Lance, and Officer Huffman with the Sheriff’s Department, before following us inside.

  “I’m afraid we broke in and made ourselves at home here in this cabin,” Micah admitted, truthfully. “We’ve been keeping a list of things we need to reimburse the owners for. Thankfully, they keep the place well stocked.”

  “I’ll make a report of everything before we leave,” Officer Lance said. “That way you’ll have something official if you need it. We can look up who owns this property on the county register and try to get in touch with them. Are both of you doing okay? Any medical needs to be taken care of?”

  “I think we’re doing fine. Mostly bumps and bruises,” Micah replied.

  “Except for the gash on his head,” I interjected. “I’m pretty sure he needs a couple of stitches.”

  “And Felicity fell into the river on the way here and got pretty chilled, but she’s seemed well enough since we got her warmed up.”

  “All right. I think we should take you both to the hospital, just to be checked out. I’m going to assume that you’re both healthy enough to ride with us on the snowmobiles to the main Highway? They’ve been clearing it today and there’s a vehicle waiting at the end of the road that can take you the rest of the way into town. We can call in a helicopter though, if you think it’s necessary.”

  “I think we can ride just fine. Everything we have with us fits in that bag over there.” He pointed to where his duffle bag rested against the wall.

  “Okay. If you want to show me around and give me a report while Miss North packs things, my partner can go radio the rest of our crew and let them know what the plan is. We’ll have them tell your families to meet you at the hospital.”

  “Sounds good.” Micah agreed with a nod, glancing at me.

  “I’ll start getting our things gathered and get dressed to go.” Relief surged through me. We were going home.

  ***

  The wind flew through my hair, whipping it behind me. I anxiously held onto Officer Lance as the snowmobile raced on top of the heavily snow-covered road. I kept glancing over at Micah, who was riding with Officer Huffman, to the side of us. Thankfully, my boots, coat, and outdoor accessories had all completely dried, making the ride much nicer than it would’ve been, otherwise.

  It seemed unfair how quickly the vehicles made it back to the main road, after all the hiking and misery Micah and I had gone through to get to the cabin in the first place. The afternoon sun caused the snow to sparkle like white diamonds, giving the appearance of a winter wonderland that almost seemed other-worldly. Despite the beauty, I was thrilled to see the waiting police vehicles at the end of the road, signaling we were one step closer to our families.

  Down the road, we could see Micah’s car being pulled from the snowdrift by a tow truck. In the bright light of day, it looked even more damaged than before.

  “How’d you find it?” Micah asked Officer Lance, as we climbed off the snowmobiles.

  “We were searching for you and noticed the damage to the guardrails when we passed by. That caused us to turn around and take a better look or we would’ve missed it. It was hard to see the white car with the snow; and the embankment is just steep enough that it’s difficult to see over. Who knows how long the two of you could’ve been stuck out here?”

  “I guess this is just another Christmas miracle,” I said, slipping my arms around Micah before staring back at the patrolman. “Thank you for your help; and I’m so sorry we took you away from your families on Christmas.”

  “No worries, Miss. We’re on the clock today anyway. We’re just happy you two kids are okay. Now let’s get you home to your loved ones.”

  Micah and I held hands in the back of the Sheriff’s vehicle all the way into town, until we arrived outside the hospital emergency room and were ushered inside. A team of people were waiting for us, flurrying about to get all our information and to check us over—even though we insisted we were fine. It was clearly a slow day in the Emergency Room and we were the big news, apparently.

  Micah’s gash was cleaned and he received four stitches, two underneath that were dissolvable and two more on top. It was also covered in Steri-Strips to help secure it and reduce the risk of scaring. Once he was finished, we were led to the waiting area.

  I heard my mom’s shriek before I saw her barreling toward me, snatching me in a bear hug right before Micah’s mom did the same to him. Suddenly we were crowded in by what seemed like dozens of people with relieved faces, all trying to press in and touch us, welcoming us home.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” I said, attempting to comfort her weeping. “I’m all right. Everything is good.”

  “You have no idea what you’ve put my heart through young lady!” she said, kissing my cheek and hugging me tighter before passing me off to my dad. “I swear you aged us both ten years last night. Didn’t she, Bill?” she remarked, bringing him into the conversation.

  “Pretty much. All I can say is this is the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.” He released me and moved to hug Micah. “Thank you, son, for taking care of our baby and keeping her safe.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Micah replied, patting my dad on the back.

  Slowly people began to filter from the building, heading toward their cars in the parking lot.

  “I’ll see you later?” Micah asked, as we were pulled our separate ways.


  I nodded. “Sure. Get some rest, though. That’s an order.”

  Hurrying back to me, he hugged me again, quickly. “Merry Christmas, Lissy.” I watched him turn to leave and it felt like my heart went with him.

  ***

  I was pretty sure my mom was trying to feed me all the food left on the planet. Even though I kept trying to reassure her that I was okay and hadn’t been starving, she was determined. She wrapped me in a blanket, sat me by the fire, and made everyone else wait on me. My status was definitely that of an invalid in her eyes. Still, we had a nice evening together, opening all the presents that didn’t get opened while they waited for news on us.

  I felt bad, because my gifts for everyone were locked in the back of Micah’s trunk, probably in a junkyard somewhere, awaiting retrieval—except for the food gifts, like my dad’s, which we’d eaten. Dad kept saying not to worry, that having me home safe was the only gift they wanted.

  Idly, I listened to the laughter and the stories of my loved ones, all the while wondering what Micah was doing. I wanted to call him, but the charger for my phone was in his car and I hadn’t even had the chance to ask to borrow one. Plus, I needed to be with my family, just like he needed to be with his.

  My eyes grew heavier as the night wore on and finally my mom suggested that I go to bed, which was fine with me. I slowly made my way up the stairs and down the hall to the comforts of my childhood room, complete with soft, plush, inviting decor. I grabbed a pair of old pajamas from my drawer and put them on before crawling under the thick, inviting blankets.

  ***

  The sound of someone knocking on my door woke me with a start and I bolted upright in bed, noticing the bright light streaming through my windows. Wait. It was morning already?

  “Honey?” Mom’s voice drifted through the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Sorry to wake you, but you have company. Micah is here to see you.”

  Glancing at the bedside clock, I realized it was almost noon. Good grief! I thought. I guess everything finally caught up with me. “Can you send him in here?” I asked.