Our First Christmas by Lisa Jackson

the pieces and searched for the missing ones, she could not create a coherent image.
    â€œYou’re trying to remember?”
    â€œYes. But no matter how often I assemble or reassemble the pieces, I can’t create a recognizable picture.”
    The seat leather creaked as he settled back in his seat. “Were you playing music on the radio?”
    She opened her eyes and studied his profile. His was not a classically beautiful face. Too many flaws to approach beauty. But there was an energy, a strength that made him far more appealing than the most perfect statue of a Mayan god. And when he smiled . . . well, her knees went just a little weak. “What does that have to do with remembering?”
    â€œIt’s just a simple question. Music?” When she continued to stare at him, he said, “Close your eyes. Music.”
    She closed her eyes and let her mind drift past the broken pieces that refused assembly. In the distance she heard the faint sound of a strumming guitar mingled with the deep melody of a man’s voice. A smile tipped the edges of her lips. She’d been listening to country-western music. Despite all her connections to the ancient civilizations, she loved country music. “Willie Nelson.”
    â€œWillie Nelson.”
    Laughter rose up in her. “Crazy.”
    â€œI never figured you for a fan.”
    â€œI’m not all dusty documents and dead languages.”
    â€œI know you aren’t.”
    A vibration under his words hinted at Merida. Color warmed her cheeks. She wanted to open her eyes and see his expression but didn’t dare.
    After a heavy hesitation, Lucas asked, “Was the sky clear or cloudy?”
    Welcoming the question, she allowed her mind to drift, and as she did, thousands of lights twinkled in her mind. She’d been so rushed to get to her father’s, she’d not really noticed the night sky full of stars that winked and sparkled like polished gems. It had been a lovely night, but she’d not really seen any of it. She’d barely heard a favorite song on the radio. How much of her life was she missing because of work? “Stars. Lots of stars. And the road was empty. I remember wishing I were making the drive during the day because it’s one of my favorite drives.”
    â€œWhen did you notice the headlights?”
    Ah, there was one of the pieces she could not connect to the others. Instead of being afraid, she felt safe cocooned in the car with Lucas. Memories couldn’t frighten her here. “I don’t think I noticed until shortly after I dialed you. I’m good at getting lost in thought.”
    â€œI’ve noticed.” A smile softened the coming words. “You called me as the headlights appeared.”
    â€œHe could have been following me for a while, but I didn’t notice him.”
    â€œWhen did you notice him?”
    â€œI was near the bend in the road near the creek bed. I remember glancing up from the radio dial and looking in the mirror. I saw the lights, distant at first, and wasn’t surprised when they grew closer. I drive slowly when I’m distracted, which is why I assumed the other car was closing ground.”
    â€œThe lights were bright.”
    â€œVery bright. He had on his high beams. I had to adjust my mirror because they were too bright. And when I took my hand off the wheel, he bumped me.” A cold chill rushed through her veins.
    The memory of scraping metal grated against her mind. The sound grew louder, filling her ears and startling her heart into a gallop.
    â€œYou said you had to toss the phone aside.”
    â€œI needed both hands on the wheel.” Fear constricted her throat. “I was so afraid.”
    â€œWhat happened next?” His voice deepened, soothing her as if she were a wild horse.
    She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t remember.”
    He held back his next question, giving her time to slow her heart and get