One Perfect Christmas (Short Story) by Stefanie Sloane Read Free Book Online Page B

absolute madness.
    Reginald abruptly backed up and turned in the direction of the cottage, threatening
     to pull Lucas’s arm from its socket.
    “Or not.”
    Lucas clucked to Horatio and the three set out for the lake, Reginald’s short, stubby
     legs making their going excruciatingly slow.
    Lucas’s frustration was so heavy, he could have shouted.
    Instead, he focused on the falling snow. On the sound of his boots digging into the
     downy blanket that stretched out before him as far as the eye could see. On the soft,
     snuffling noises Reginald made when he grew tired and insisted on taking a momentary
     rest.
    On anything else but his broken, aching heart.
    “Do you know, Reginald,” Lucas said out loud, addressing the donkey as he would a
     human friend. “I have a rather dramatic flair—at least when it comes to your mistress.
    “ ‘Broken, aching heart,’ ” he repeated his earlier thought with disgust. “Sounds
     like something Jane would say, does it not, Reginald?”
    The donkey’s furry ears pricked up at the sound of his mistress’s name and he brayed
     three times in quick succession.
    Lucas patted Reginald’s soft, hairy head. “No, my dear friend, your mistress is presently
     entertaining one Lord Needles—perhaps even accepting his proposal of marriage. You
     may have a new master in your future, in fact.”
    They’d reached the lake and turned to take on the hill. “And it won’t be me.”
    The three climbed in silence. Horatio snorted with impatience, his long, powerful
     legs clearly itching to simply run up the incline and be done with it. Reginald lowered
     his head and plowed forth, his short, squat bulk proving valuable against the fearsome
     wind and snow. And Lucas walked between the two, the muscles in his thighs burning
     with effort, his arms aching from keeping a firm hold on both equines.
    Mother Nature was attempting to tell Lucas something, he felt sure of it. As he struggled
     to stay upright, hisextremities pricking with a thousand needles, parts already completely numb, his body
     and mind begged him to abandon the consuming anger and sense of betrayal that had
     led him out into the storm to begin with. At last they reached the top of the hill
     and Lucas could just make out the tiny cottage in the distance.
    He paused, catching his breath and allowing his fellow wanderers to do the same.
    He had no one to blame but himself. Jane could have been his wife long, long ago.
     But Lucas had squandered time, traveling the world in search of his life, never realizing
     that everything he’d ever longed for could be found at Juniper Hall.
    Yes, he could feel disappointed in Jane. He still believed that she’d felt something
     in his kiss—knew it in his bones, though they’d all but turned to ice. But she owed
     him nothing. He’d given her no reason to pursue those feelings.
    He could not be angry with her. Jane’s family had nothing left to save them but a
     favorable marriage. She would have been a fool to ignore the opportunity Lord Needles
     represented.
    “You stupid, short-sighted ass,” Lucas mumbled, defeat settling on his exhausted chest.
     “Not you, Reginald. Me.”
    The wind shifted suddenly and the sound of pounding hoofbeats reached Lucas. He turned
     in the direction of the thuds, narrowing his eyes to see the horse. A rider satastride a large draft, the horse’s powerful legs eating up the space between him and
     the trio.
    “Lucas, wait …” the rider yelled, each word warped by the capricious wind.
    The animals spooked at the ghostly sound, both releasing a squeal of fright.
    Lucas turned back around just in time to see the white in Horatio’s eyes before he
     bolted for the bottom of the hill, Reginald rearing up on his hind legs, then scrambling
     after the Thoroughbred.
    Lucas held on to the donkey’s halter as his knees connected with the ground and he
     began a fast, slippery descent down the hill. “Stop … this … instant!” he