Page 69 of Snowbound with the Santas

“Oh, no,” Rayne says, and she reaches for my arm. “I’m sorry. Can you get it back?”

I shake my head. “There’s always a small window, and Freida knows that it’s the connection and not me. It just um…”

“Hurts?” she offers.

I can only nod, then I hold up the sweater. “At least I got to show her this.”

“It’s adorable.” Rayne grins. “I didn’t realize you could knit.”

“As you can see, I can’t. But I finished this a few months ago. I get her a present every year for birthday and Christmas. When Amanda sent them back unopened, I began keeping them for myself to give her when I finally get to meet her in person again.”

Rayne squeezes my arm and her smile turns a little watery. “That’s so sweet. I’m sure she would appreciate that. She seems like a sweet kid.”

“Yeah, thankfully, she doesn’t take after me or her mother.”

“That’s not true,” Rayne replies. “You’re plenty sweet.”

“Mmhmm.” Tapping the screen, I briefly try to reconnect even though I know it won’t work. Once the internet dies around here, it’s out for good until the next flicker comes our way. “You mentioned Archer?”

“Oh, yes. Rayne clasps her hands together. “Archer wanted me to ask you if you still wanted him to dig out the good stuff from the spot. He said you’d know what that meant.”

Did he mean the last of the frozen turkey we had stored in the outside larder? We’d been saving that for a special occasion, but with Rayne here, maybe this was the occasion.

“I’ll go and talk to him.”

“Awesome. I’m going to shower because Frankie got me absolutelycoveredin flour.”

As she leans up to kiss my cheek, I spot the flour handprints all over her clothes, including her ass. “What were you making?”

“Biscuits,” Rayne grins.

As she leans away, I catch her chin and pull her in for a proper kiss. “I bet they’ll taste amazing.”

“Oh, sure, keep telling yourself that.” With that final quip, she slips out of the room and a few moments later, the shower clunks into life.

With her gone, it’s the perfect window for me to return to my closet and dig out the rest of my poorly made gifts for my friends. It’s the thought that counts, but I know they’ll see the funny side to the poorly knitted items. Wrapping paper is scarce, so I settle for some old newspaper to wrap them up, and then I place them under our gorgeous tree.

In the kitchen, Archer is busy making some kind of red sauce that smells fruity and amazing while Frankie is crouched on the floor in front of the oven.

“What are you doing?” I ask, ruffling his hair on the way past.

“Making sure the oven will heat everything evenly this year. We don’t need a half-frozen turkey for dinner.”

“We’re going with the turkey, then?” Archer glances up.

“I think so.” I nod quickly. “When was the last time we had a Christmas like this? Not for a few years, at least.”

“My broken tree was at least six years old,” Frankie agrees.

“Well, then.” Archer dips his head and focuses on his sauce. “A real Christmas this year.”

“We can thank Rayne for it.” I busy myself boiling some water and filling a thermos with some chocolate powder. “She’s really seemed a lot happier these past few days.”

“I was surprised,” Archer murmurs, “when the mountain team said the roads were closed. Thought she’d want to get home.”

“Seriously?” Frankie swivels where he’s crouched. “Back to the same place her ex is?”

Archer glances up. “No. Back to the airport andhome,” he clarifies.

---