Winter Rescue (I'll Be Home for Christmas) (3 page)

Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

The snow had stopped, and Curt watched as the

stranger walked to his rental, leaned inside for a few

moments, and then withdrew his duffel. When the man

yanked open the truck’s door and leaned across him to

deposit the bag in the backseat, Curt gasped—though he

wasn’t sure if it was from the man’s proximity or the blast of

frigid air. Perhaps sensing his discomfort, the stranger

paused, looking at Curt for a moment.

Returning the favor, Curt examined the man before

him—trying to see within the hood, behind the goggles and

muffler—and failed to fix a warm smile on his face as he

began to shiver again. The stranger withdrew and slammed

the door, walking back to the front of Curt’s rental to release

the winch cable.

Within the cab, the engine hummed, and the heater

kept the cold at bay, relaxing Curt. Through the windshield,

he watched the stranger, his movements calm and

confident—almost hypnotic—in the glare of the headlights.

The last thing Curt saw was the broad expanse of his

rescuer’s back as the man stood calmly by the winch control,

reeling in his cable.

he next thing Curt was aware of was another blast of

frigid air and someone supporting him as they

T struggled through the snow toward a dark

farmhouse… being dumped in a large leather chair…

the stranger kneeling by a fireplace and striking a match…

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Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

the stranger unzipping his parka, removing his muffler,

goggles, and gloves, untying his boots and kicking them off.

Then Curt was sitting on a bed in a dark room as large

hands gently removed his cold, wet clothing: his coat, gloves,

boots, and three pairs of socks. The first of three shirts was

tugged off over his head, and Curt briefly lost his balance,

falling forward and finding himself supported by a shoulder

and broad chest—a fragrant male body. He caught a glimpse

of the fire, popping and crackling in the next room,

beckoning him. But when he felt hands at his waist, he

protested weakly.

“Shhh, there now,” a deep voice soothed. Curt could

hear amusement in the stranger’s tone when he said, “I

promise not to take advantage of you, Mr. Knutzen.” He lost

track of time, but then Curt found himself chuckling quietly

as he lay on his back, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling

while someone tickled his feet. “That’s good to see. Your toes

are looking good, nice and pink. There’s a small bruise

forming on your right hip, but it doesn’t look too bad.” The

voice softened. “I think you’ll be just fine… so fine.”

Sometime later, Curt stirred as the same deep, resonant

voice penetrated his sleep.

“I understand. I’ll have him there as soon as he’s up,

around, and fed.”

Curt moaned and stretched, smiling at the warmth and

weight of the comforters on top of him.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be careful, and you’re welcome.”

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Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

Curt slowly opened his eyes to a darkened room. He

couldn’t make out much, but a warm glow, broken only by a

periodic shadow—a big tall shadow—seeped in from another

room on his left.

“See you soon, Mrs. Knutzen.”

Mom
? Curt struggled to sit up, but he thought his heart

might stop when that voice was suddenly right by his ear.

“Hey now. Settle down. You’re okay.” A bright light on

his left switched on, and Curt saw his rescuer’s face, his

rescuer’s handsome face, his rescuer’s handsome face with

green eyes and dimples. And Curt could see those dimples

because the stranger was smiling, smiling at him, and what

a smile it was.

Curt smiled back. “H-hello?”

“Hello,” the man said.

“You saved me.”

“I found you.” A corner of the stranger’s beautiful mouth

tilted up. “I spotted that ingenious SOS of yours.”

Curt grinned remembering the racy yellow boxers. “Oh,

ha… yeah, well….”

“I’m Oscar. Oscar Nylund.” He extended his hand in

greeting, and Curt took it.

“N-nice to meet you, Mr. Nylund.”

“Call me Oscar, and I hope I can call you Curt?”

Curt nodded, dumbfounded.

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Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

“Good!” Oscar slapped his thighs and stood abruptly.

“I’ve got some stew on. You stay right there, and I’ll dish you

up a bowl, bring it to you with some bread, okay?”

Curt nodded again, and with that, his big, beautiful

black-haired hero strode out of the room, leaving Curt sitting

alone in the bedroom—in
his
bed—with a goofy grin on his

face and thinking:
Please be gay, please by single, please be

gay, please be single
….

urt watched Oscar stir the logs in the fireplace while

he blew on his stew to cool it before taking a bite. It

C was thick and spicy and warmed his insides. Curt felt

safe, warm, and content, but when Oscar turned to

look at him and smiled, his insides trembled. He looked

around the sparse main room. A large throw rug took up

most of the hardwood floor. On one edge of the rug were two

matching leather chairs with a small table between them.

Built-in bookshelves took up one wall, but there were no

books. The room was bare of knickknacks and other

accessories, as if Oscar had just begun the process of

furnishing.

“I hope it’s good,” Oscar said, adding a couple logs to

the dying fire.

“Huh? Oh, yes,” Curt said, “Very. Thank you.”

Oscar crossed the room and sat in the chair next to

Curt with a sigh. “You’re looking much better—uh, not that

you looked bad before, but… uh….”

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Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

“I understand.” Curt smiled. “How is it that you were

out in all that?”

“I would ask you the same, but I understand wanting to

spend the holidays with family.”

“Yeah,” Curt sighed, “this is my first time home in three

years.” He glanced around the room. “Did you just move in

here?”

Oscar followed his gaze, confusion making a brief

appearance on his face. “Oh… no. This is my gran’s place.

She moved to Boca months ago, and I’m getting the house in

good condition for sale, patching the roof, taking care of any

other smallish repairs. You know, that kind of thing.”

Curt nodded. “Was it just you and your gran?”

“Nope. I was born here, but my parents and I moved to

upstate New York even before I started school. We visited my

grandparents every year, though, sometimes for Christmas,

sometimes for Easter. It just depended on my parents’

schedules. Mom’s a teacher. Dad’s a writer.”

“I see.” Like the spice and warmth of the stew, Curt also

soaked up the deep resonance of Oscar’s voice. It seemed to

reach deep into his bones and vibrate pleasantly within him.

“Grandpa passed this time last year, and this house got

to be too much for Gran, so she’s selling it and baking in the

sun down South. She didn’t want to be here for the

anniversary of his death.”

Curt wrapped his blanket more tightly around him and

took another bite of stew. “Sounds like heaven.”

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Winter Rescue • Dawn Kimberly Johnson

“You say you haven’t been home in years. Where were

you traveling from?”

“San Diego. I run the IT department at a law firm.”

Turning sideways in his chair, Oscar’s green eyes

widened, and his dimples made a dramatic reappearance.

“I’m on the vet staff at the zoo. I live in Chula Vista.”

“No shit!”

Both men suddenly quieted, blushing and turning to

watch the fire, embarrassed by their enthusiasm.

“So… I told your mother I’d drive you over there,” Oscar

said softly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Uh… yeah, okay.” Curt tried to unwrap himself from

the blanket and get to his feet, but he wasn’t sure where to

set down his food.

“Here, let me,” Oscar offered, standing before Curt and

taking the soup bowl from him. Their fingers brushed lightly,

and Curt felt warmth spread through him all over again as