A Little Bit of Holiday Magic

Grace couldn’t tell what was real, what was her imagination. The roar of her heartbeat drowned out the music.

It’ll be okay, babe.

Damon. Tears stung her eyes at the memory of his voice. Nothing had been okay since he’d died.

A wall of snow appeared in front of her.

Every muscle in her body tensed. Panic ricocheted through her. Grace closed her eyes. She screamed, clutched the steering wheel with all her strength. If only she could hold on to Liam...

“Damon, help us.”

A prayer. A plea.

The truck jolted with an awful metallic, crumpling sound. Something exploded, hitting her in the face. A horrible smell filled her nostrils. “Oh.”

The engine died.

Liam wailed.

Adrenaline surged. Her face stung. She coughed. “Liam.”

He screamed louder. The soul-piercing sound stole her breath and her hope.

Hands shaking, she struggled with her seat belt. The air bag had deflated and lay on her lap. She had to get to her son. “Be right there, baby.”

He sobbed, alternating between hiccups and cries, each stabbing her aching heart. “P-nut. Where P-nut?”

“I’ll find him.” Grace unfastened the belt, turned, reached back. Her face burned. It hurt to breathe. She couldn’t see anything, but felt around. “Fleece blanket, cookies, jacket. Peanut has to be here.”

She hit the switch on the cab lamp above her.

Light flooded the truck. The engine might not work, but thankfully, the battery still did.

Crocodile tears streamed down Liam’s cheeks. “P-nut.”

Grace glimpsed blue fuzz stuck between the front and back seats. She pulled out the stuffed animal. Pushed the elephant into Liam’s mitten-covered hands. “Here’s Peanut.”

The tears stopped flowing. He cuddled his favorite toy. “Mine.”

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

“No.” He kissed the elephant. “I fine. Peanut fine, too.”

A lump clogged her throat. The relief was short-lived. If she didn’t do something fast, they were going to freeze.

She tucked blankets and sleeping bags around him again in between coughs.

“Mommy needs to check the truck.” And get help. She grabbed her cell phone. Dead. Of course it was. She hadn’t been able to find her charger since driving through Utah. “Stay here and keep Peanut warm. I’ll be right back.”

Grace pulled on her handle. The door wouldn’t budge. “Come on.”

She tried again. Nothing.

She crawled to the passenger seat and tried that handle. On her third attempt the door opened, pushing away a drift.

Thank goodness. She stumbled out of the truck. Her canvas sneakers sank into the soft snow. Her toes curled from the icy cold.

Wind whipped. Freezing air stung her lungs. Fear doubled with every passing second.

Crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her gloved but trembling hands beneath her armpits, she closed the door with her hip. She needed to keep Liam protected from the cold.

The truck was stuck in a seven-feet-tall snowbank. The shell over the back of the pickup looked fine. She couldn’t see the damage to the driver’s side, but based on the impact sounds she expected it to be crunched.

“Help,” Grace yelled, though she doubted anyone was around. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness with snow falling. “Can anyone hear me?”

The wind swallowed her voice. A weight pressed down on her.

She couldn’t give up.

Her son needed her to be strong.

If Grace hadn’t had Liam, she would have given up the night the army rang her doorbell to tell her Damon, her Ranger husband, a man she’d loved since she was fifteen, had been killed in Afghanistan. Damon had saved three soldiers before dying, but the word hero could never fill the gaping hole his death left in her and their son’s life. A hole still present two and a half years later.

Damon had always said, “It’ll be okay, babe.”

She repeated his words. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

All she had to do was find shelter. Get Liam out of the cold. Everything else could wait until daylight.

Grace looked around.

Snow and trees.

That was all she could see.

Stupid snow and stupid trees.

Driving across country from Georgia to Oregon two weeks before Christmas had been stupid. Sure, she’d finally graduated college, but she should have stuck it out another few months until the weather improved.

What was I thinking?

Making new Christmas memories, not dwelling on old ones. Ringing in the New Year in a different place, not wondering what might have been. Meeting new people instead of saying goodbye to old friends transferring out of the Rangers or heading downrange on another deployment, not knowing who wouldn’t be coming home this time.

Snow coated her jacket and jeans. Her hair, too. Her gloved hands tingled. She shoved them in her pockets.

“I’m sorry.” Her teeth chattered. She blinked away tears. “Should have stayed in Georgia.”

It’ll be okay, babe.