Stranded: A Christmas Story by Fiona Wilde Read Free Book Online

things, huh?” she asked.
    He sighed. “Well, let’s just say you’re not the only one stranded until they can get vehicles through the pass. I am, too. The damage is….extensive.”
    “Oh…” It was the only word she could mutter over the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.”
    “I know,” he said. “And like I told you, that’s behind us. I’m just glad I shot that elk when I did. At least we have plenty of meat. We’ll be fine for food and wood; that’s really all we need.”
    “That and a bath,” she said, and instantly felt guilty.
    He glanced at her. “Yeah, I forget that women aren’t as comfortable going a couple of days between baths as men are. But we can fix that.”
    Mason picked up a bucket by the kitchen sink and began to pump water into it. He poured the water into pots to heat on the stove.
    “It’ll take a few trips, but I’ll have a warm bath ready for you in no time,” he said.
    “Mason, you don’t have to,” she said.
    “No, but I want to.”
    It was the best bath she’d ever had. The clawfoot tub in the bathroom did indeed take a long time to fill, but Lydia had never felt more relaxed or cleaner. The water helped soothe her sore bottom, too, and by the time she emerged and put on pair of exercise pants and a form-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt she felt like a human again. She put her hair up in a ponytail and decided against makeup, something she would never have done in the city. But that morning when she’d emerged with coffee, sans makeup, she couldn’t help but notice how Mason stared with appreciation at her natural complexion. And it was nice not to have to put on a false face, in more ways than one.
    She got another surprise when she came out of the bathroom.
    “Merry Christmas,” he said, pointing to a small square wrapped in paper on the table.
    She looked at him in disbelief.
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “You should know by now that I’m a pretty serious guy,” he said. “And it is Christmas. I wanted to celebrate having the companionship. So don’t ruin it for me, OK?” He nodded towards the package. “Open it.”
    Lydia picked it up and tore away the paper. It was a painting of Fletcher’s Meadow in spring. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
    “I can’t accept this,” she said. “It’s beautiful. You must have paid a fortune for this at one of the galleries in town…”
    “Not really,” he said. “I painted it.”
    Lydia wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
    “Seriously? Oh my god…it’s….this is amazing, Mason!” She couldn’t stop staring at it. When she looked at him her eyes were full of tears. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever given me.”
    “I find that hard to believe,” he said. “I’m sure guys have given you all kinds of nice things.”
    “Nothing like this,” she said, hugging the picture to her chest. “Nothing they made themselves.”
    He smiled. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”
    She frowned. “I just wish I had something to give to you.”
    “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t know you were going to make a new friend and it’s easier for me on my home turf. But I tell you what. Since it looks like we’re going to be stranded together for the next week or so, what do you say you fix me dinner on New Year’s Eve? I haven’t had a New Year’s Eve celebration in a couple of years, living up here like a damn hermit. It’ll be fun.”
    Lydia nodded. “I’d love to,” she said.
    They stared at each other, each thinking the same thing: “Would it send the wrong message if I moved in for a kiss?” Each looked away, convinced that the other might read the thought in their eyes.
    “Thanks again for the picture,” she said. Lydia retreated to her room to sit on the bed and stare at the painting. It had turned into a wonderful Christmas - a wonderful and unique Christmas despite all that had happened. Her  family knew that she was safe, and were probably so grateful that they were happy, too. And she had