Our First Christmas by Lisa Jackson Page A

control. “The music was still playing.”
    â€œYes. Did you hear it?”
    â€œAll I heard was your voice.”
    â€œWhat do you remember?”
    â€œThe excitement in your voice and your promise to see me the next day with a full translation. And then the sound of a crash, and you screaming.” His grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles were white.
    He’d never once frightened her. Not even when she’d seen him sitting alone in the café in Mexico. But in this moment, she knew she’d glimpsed a formidable warrior.

Chapter 12
    Tuesday, December 23, 2 P.M.
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    They arrived at the accident site a half hour later and Marisa felt tension building in her as they drew closer and closer. Silence wrapped around her like a shroud.
    As they approached a bend in the road, she saw the skid marks that cut sharply to the left. Those had been her skid marks.
    Lucas slowed the car before pulling off the side of the road onto the dirt shoulder. Marisa moistened her lips. “I used to love this stretch of road. Even at night. Now I’m not sure I can ever drive this again.”
    His wrist rested easily on the steering wheel. “I never figured you could be scared off easily.”
    The unspoken challenge nipped at her. “I’m not scared. But I had a near-death experience right here.”
    â€œNot the road or land’s fault. This is all about a driver who wanted to hurt you.”
    â€œYou’re being far too logical.”
    â€œLogic has a way of cutting through the fear.”
    She looked at him and a half laugh startled from her. “I bet you’re never afraid.”
    â€œOnly crazy people don’t feel fear from time to time. Fear keeps us alive and our senses sharp.”
    She unhooked her seat belt. “So I suppose you want me to get out.”
    Wide shoulders shrugged under his jacket. “If you want to.”
    The fear whispered in her ear. Told her to stay and run from the memories that were sure to bring heartache. “Fine. I’m getting out.”
    â€œI didn’t ask.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to.” She opened the door, burrowed deeper in her coat as the cold air bit and snapped. Her shoes crunched along the dirt as she followed the skid marks marring the road. Like Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road, she walked toe-to-toe, following the black rubber tire marks, hoping they’d lead her to the missing pieces in her life. As she grew closer to the edge of the road, tension tightened around her chest. Memories of the metal tearing and bending accelerated her heartbeat past the safe speed and straight to dangerous.
    Lucas hovered close, not speaking but a silent sentinel there to chase away the darkness.
    She moved to the ravine where the imprint of her tires remained gouged in the dirt. A trail of flattened brush burrowed down the hillside to the spot at the bottom of the ravine where she’d crashed. The air bag had deployed, smashing her face and jerking her against the seat.
    Marisa closed her eyes, remembering that she’d felt suffocated by the bursting bag that had saved her life and left her face bruised. She’d clung to consciousness as she’d heard Lucas’s voice still echoing from the cell phone that had been tossed about the car in the fall.
    â€œI’ll find you,” he’d said. “Hold on.”
    She’d clung to bruised and injured thoughts that wanted to scurry into the darkness. Her body ached from the battering. And then there’d been . . .
    â€œA flashlight. At the top of the hill.”
    â€œWho was it?”
    â€œIt was the other driver, I think. I don’t know if he’d checked to see if I was okay or if he was coming to finish the job. I closed my eyes and didn’t move. I barely took a breath.” She raised fingertips to her breastbone. “My heart beat so loudly I thought he’d hear.”
    â€œDid he come down the