Page 28 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men

JAXON

“And I’m telling you, you bite into a Georgia peach, you’ll be hooked for life! You’ll sell your soul for the next one. And we’ve got peaches in all varieties. Blonde, brunette, and redhead.”

Powers elbowed me again, hard enough to rock me in my adjoining seat. His laughter was always the same; over the top, self-induced, even a little infectious. It blended in with the constant hum of the Chinook’s dual rotors, making it seem like the whole chopper was laughing at us.

“You want a girl, you stay in Jersey,” Powers went on. “But if you want a woman? ” The resulting smile nearly broke his face. “Come on down, brother. I’ll set a whole bushel of peaches in front of you. All you gotta do is reach out and take the one you want.”

The Chinook shifted, diving left as we rolled through a turn. The rotor hum grew abruptly louder. The pitch, higher.

“Or you could take two,” Powers elbowed me, cackling at himself. “You could take three or four, or as many as you—”

The rest of his sentence was lost — either because I wasn’t listening, or because the hum of the rotors had grown to a high-pitched whine. The whine turned into a screech. The screech turned into an ear-splitting roar.

“Women are women down there,” Powers shouted over the noise. “They cook. They clean. They treat you like—”

He stopped mid-sentence. And Powers never stopped talking.

The explosion came from above. Or at least, it sounded like an explosion.

The distinct tearing of metal came next, followed by the roar of heat and wind as the cabin was instantly exposed to the elements.

Sunlight — so bright it was blinding — exploded through the enormous cabin, followed by screams as the entire right side of the chopper, and all the men strapped to it, was ripped violently away.

The ground was rushing up to meet us. I could see that clearly now. For some reason it didn’t terrify me as much as it should’ve. It was too strange-looking. Too interesting…

My eyes were glued shut as a torrent of something warm and thick sprayed across my face and lips. It was bitter and metallic to the taste. But also, slightly sweet.

Blood.

Somehow I got my eyes open; and looked over at Powers. He was covered in it too. What I thought to be blood turned out to be hydraulic fluid. Hydraulic fluid mixed with oil, mixed with fuel, mixed with—

The crash was eerily soundless, for some reason.

One second I was looking at Powers, his face drawn with innocence and confusion, the next I was hurtling through the air, my body pinwheeling like an old rag doll, flung by a child.

I felt the heat of the explosion more than actually saw it.

The hissing roar of the ensuing fireball engulfed everything, turning the sky from yellow, to orange, and eventually, to charcoal black.

I landed flat on my back, then somehow leapt to my feet. Everything was fire. Everywhere, flames. Smoke billowed outward and upward, angrily soiling the flawless blue sky, as waves of insufferable heat radiated invisibly outward from the broken shell of the Chinook’s cabin.

No!

Pulling my gear off, I ran as fast as I could…

… straight into the flames.

NOOOOO!

“Jaxon…”

I was dizzy. Spinning. Following the screams.

Burning…

“JAXON!”

The hand on my face turned my head downward, away from the wreckage. And then just as suddenly, the Chinook was gone. The smoke, the heat, the fire — all of it just abruptly disappeared, leaving me staring down at a beautiful, freckled face.

“Jaxon, it’s me. It’s Camryn.”

“Camryn,” I murmured. “No.”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Shhhhh…” she murmured, her soft hand gently caressing my cheek. “You’re alright now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I blinked a few times, and finally got my bearings. I was in a hallway. The hallway at the top of the stairs. Camryn was standing beside me, her T-shirt dancing around the tops of those smooth, supple thighs.

“You were dreaming again,” she said gently. “And sleepwalking.”

“I—I was?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But it’s okay, now. I got you.”

My first thoughts were of embarrassment, then anger at myself for having lost control. But those emotions were fleeting, this time. I’d only run to them because they were familiar.

Right now, this beautiful woman had me in her embrace. She had both arms wrapped around me. I felt her compassion. Her empathy. Her understanding.

Slowly, deliberately, she guided me back to my room.

I was sitting beside her on the bed, staring at her for a long time, before I finally felt like myself again. She leaned in gently, and kissed my forehead.

“Feeling better?”

I squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. All memory of the crash faded into the background. The crash always faded, but it generally took a while. It happened much more rapidly with her here though, than ever before.

For several moments we just sat in the moonlit bedroom, absorbing the silence. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her. I grew fixated on those long lashes, hiding the beautiful blue irises beneath.

“You know how weird it is,” I sighed, “talking to someone for the very last time?”

Camryn’s head dipped a little, as if delving into her own memories. She nodded.

“I mean, you’re talking such nonsense usually. The conversations are always so stupid, so inconsequential.”

“I know.”

“Like, you would’ve said something so much more important, so much heavier, if you knew that was the last time you’d ever speak to that person. But instead, you’re talking about nothing,” I went on, “or nodding your head. Or not even listening.”

“You lost someone like that?” she prodded gently.

“There was this… this thing that happened, not long after I started my first tour,” I went on. “I lost a friend. A good one, too. I didn’t know him long, but we got close on Parris Island, during training together. And then, well…”

Camryn shushed me gently, with a kiss on the lips.

“Not now,” she whispered. “Tell me another time.”

Her smile was gentle, reassuring. Emotionally and physically, it put me at ease.

“But trust me when I say… I understand.”

“You do?”

Camryn squeezed my hand again, her thumb running over the scar tissue there without question. Quietly she slipped from the room, padded across the hall, and returned moments later, clutching something.

“My mother died when I was ten,” she said, settling down beside me again. “Aneurysm. She dropped me off at school one morning, went to work, and never came home again.”

“Damn.”

She nodded. “It was the day before Thanksgiving. We were hosting. There was a bunch of new food in the fridge, with red and green stickers all over it. Red meant we couldn’t eat it, it was for the holiday. Green was go ahead and chow down.”

“That’s kinda funny,” I chuckled.

“Yeah. Mom was kooky like that,” she murmured.

I watched her blue eyes lose focus, as they took on a faraway look.

“I remember my dad and I having to take those stickers off, after the funeral,” she went on.

“It felt like the saddest thing; going through the fridge, peeling them off. Knowing that mom had been so excited when she put them on. She was so looking forward to cooking for everyone. She had all these favorite dishes; especially the ones her mother had taught her.”

“Did she teach you any?”

Camryn’s long hair dangled down on either side of her face. I brushed it back as she shook her head.

“Not one,” she breathed. “Never got to. She was a nurse, so she was always busy. But it always felt like there would be time for it, you know? Like we had all this future ahead of us. It would happen down the line.”

Now I was the one squeezing her hand. It felt so soft and warm.

“My point is, when she dropped me off at school that day, all I said was ‘bye,’ and ran off. Not even ‘goodbye.’ How fucked up is that? I couldn’t even give her the full fucking word.”

“Camryn—”

“I could’ve hugged her. I could’ve kissed her and told her I loved her. I could’ve done just about anything else, other than take her going out of her way to drive me to school for granted. You know what I mean?”

I slid my arms around her now, squeezing her snugly against my side. I did it every bit as much for myself, as for her.

“This right here,” she said, “is my favorite photo of us.”

She held out a tiny strip of four photos, actually. The kind of photos you’d get goofing off with friends, in one of those little self-serve photo booths.

“This was my favorite day, too,” Camryn went on.

“I was in the third grade. Mom surprised me, and picked me up early from school. She took me to lunch at my favorite restaurant; and let me play on the playground. Then we went to the movies, just her and I. There was a little arcade in the theater, and right before we went in, we took these photos…”

I glanced down, and my heart threatened to explode.

There was Camryn, beaming happily through a set of missing front teeth.

Her mother sat behind her, making a different funny face over her shoulder in each of the four photographs.

She was beautiful of course, just like her daughter.

But her expressions were of such joy, such pure unbridled happiness, I almost couldn’t bear to look.

“Whenever I think about the last time I saw her, and how I should’ve said something different?

” Camryn went on. “I stop and pull this out. When I look at it, I remember how very much she knew that I loved her, and she loved me. And how our last words — or lack of words — meant nothing, really. Because our relationship was so much more.”

She pushed back to look up at me again. Her eyes were glassy, but the tears were happy ones.

“Don’t dwell on silly last words,” she told me. “Remember the good times you had with your friend, the jokes you shared, the things he did that made you laugh. That’s all that really matters.”

Raising her arms, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her breasts spilled forth, bouncing pertly, those amazing pink nipples all round and perfect. It was the most beautiful, feminine thing I’d ever seen.

“Now sleep with me,” she said, pulling me back into my bed. “And I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

We climbed beneath the sheets and I spooned into her, feeling the warmth of her nakedness against my back. An arm slid around me, locking tightly at my waist. Her lips were warm; as they brushed my ear from behind.

“No more bad dreams,” she whispered, sliding a smooth, sexy leg over mine. “Only good ones.”