How the hell had a Christmas tree survived the inferno in here? It was wood! Granted, it was still a live tree, and its trunk and needles held plenty of sap. And fires were always unpredictable. The one thing you could be sure of was that they’d surprise you. Maybe the balcony had been protected somehow.
He moved his body, trying to shift the tree, but it was extremely heavy and he was pinned so flat he had no leverage. He spotted his radio a few feet away. It must have been knocked out of his pouch. Underneath the horrible, insistent whine of his PASS device, he heard the murmuring chatter of communication on the radio. If he could get a finger on it, he could hit his emergency trigger and switch to Channel 6, the May Day channel. His left arm was useless, but he could try with his right. But when he moved it, pain ripped through his shoulder.
Hell. Well, he could at least shut off the freaking PASS device. If a rapid intervention team made it in here, he’d yell for them. But no way could he stand listening to that sound for the next whatever-amount-of-time it took. Gritting his teeth against the agony, he reached for the device at the front of his turnout, then hit the button. The strobe light stopped and sudden silence descended, though his ears still rang. While he was at it, he checked the gauge that indicated how much air he had left in his tank. Ten minutes. He must have been in here for some time, sucking up air, since it was a thirty-minute tank.
A croak issued from his throat. “I’m in hell. No surprise.”
Water. He needed water.
“I can’t give you any water,” a bright female voice said. For some reason, he had the impression that the angel on the tip of the Christmas tree had spoken. So he answered her back.
“Of course you can’t. Because I’m in hell. They don’t exactly hand out water bottles in hell.”
“Who said you’re in hell?”
Even though he watched the angel’s lips closely, he didn’t see them move. So it must not be her speaking. Besides, the voice seemed to be coming from behind him. “I figured it out all by myself.”
Amazingly, he had no more trouble with his throat. Maybe he wasn’t really speaking aloud. Maybe he was having this bizarre conversation with his own imagination. That theory was confirmed when a girl’s shapely calves stepped into his field of vision. She wore red silk stockings the exact color of holly berries. She wore nothing else on her feet, which had a very familiar shape.
Lizzie.
His gaze traveled upward, along the swell of her calves. The stockings stopped just above her knees, where they were fastened by a red velvet bow. “Christmas stockings,” he murmured.
“I told you.”
“All right. I was wrong. Maybe it’s heaven after all. Come here.” He wanted to hold her close. His heart wanted to burst with joy that she was here with him, that he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t going to die without seeing Lizzie again.
“I can’t. There’s a tree on top of you,” she said in a teasing voice. “Either that, or you’re very happy to see me.”
“Oh, you noticed that? You can move it, can’t you? Either you’re an angel and have magical powers, or you’re real and you can push it off me.”
She laughed. A real Lizzie laugh, starting as a giggle and swooping up the register until it became a whoop. “Do you really think an angel would dress like this?”
“Hmm, good point. What are you wearing besides those stockings? I can’t even see. At least step closer so I can see.”
“Fine.” A blur of holly red, and then she perched on the pile of beams and concrete that blocked the east end of his world. In addition to the red stockings, she wore a red velvet teddy and a green peaked hat, which sat at an angle on her flowing dark hair. Talk about a “hot elf” look.
“Whoa. How’d you do that?”
“You did it.”
“I did it?” How could he do it? He was incapacitated. Couldn’t even move a finger. Well, maybe he could move a finger. He gave it a shot, wiggling the fingers on both hands. At least he wasn’t paralyzed.
But he did seem to be mentally unstable. “I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
“Bingo.”
An Excerpt from
ONCE UPON A HIGHLAND CHRISTMAS
by Lecia Cornwall
Lady Alanna McNabb is bound by duty to her family, who insist she must marry a gentleman of wealth and title. When she meets the man of her dreams, she knows it’s much too late, but her heart is no longer hers.
Laird Iain MacGillivray is on his way to propose to another woman when he discovers Alanna half-frozen in the snow and barely alive. She isn’t his to love, yet she’s everything he’s ever wanted.
As Christmas comes closer, the snow thickens, and the magic grows stronger. Alanna and Iain must choose between desire and duty, love and obligation.