The Ghost of Christmas Present Read Free

talking dead man shouldn't have
upset me so much!" Had those words really just come out of her
mouth?
    She slammed the refrigerator door shut
then started putting things in cabinets. When she used up what
little storage space she had on her side of the kitchen she
realized she would either have to leave the rest of her things on
the table or start using the cabinets he was propped against.
Sucking in a deep breath, she balanced a half dozen cans of soup in
her arms, marched up to him and threw open the cabinet door next to
his head. The handle slipped from her fingers. The door flew back
through his head, bounced off the cabinet and banged shut. All six
cans of soup hit the floor when Alane cringed at the thought of the
door hitting his head.
    When she opened her eyes he hadn't
moved. His eyes - not quite brown, not quite green - very nearly
twinkled with amusement when he smiled.
    "Missed me." 
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
    Alane dropped to her knees and chased
rolling soup cans across the ancient, uneven floor of the cabin.
She used that time to desperately try to get her heart pumping
again. The door had bounced right through his head! His smile had
sent her heart to her feet!
    She scavenged three cans from under the
table, one from behind the stove and one from the farthest corner
of the kitchen. The sixth lay innocently at the feet - make that in
the feet - of her ghost. A ghost in cowboy boots.
    "Oh. I would help, but...," he bent and
scooped his hand right through the can, "...I have this problem."
He smiled with all the charm of a mischievous six year
old.
    Alane swallowed hard and chewed on her
lower lip.
    "W-Would...ahh...you mind stepping to
your right?"
    He continued that bone-melting smile as
he slid down the counter a few inches. She snatched the can from
the floor, then dumped them all in the nearest cabinet.
    "Am I making you nervous?"
    She merely cocked a brow at him in
answer.
    "I'm not so bad when you get to know
me. Really. Why don't you pour yourself a glass of wine and we'll
talk by the fire."
    Her first impulse was a rude snort and
a "Yeah, right," but she stifled them both. Instead, she found her
nail cuticles infinitely interesting while she chewed on her lip
again and wished fervently that he'd just disappear.
    "All right. I'll tell you what. I'll go
wait by the fire and if you want to talk you can join
me."
    He didn't wait for an answer. But at
least he used the doorway when he left the kitchen.
    Alane stood in the center of
the floor, wringing her hands, her stomach churning. If she talked
to him for a while, would he go away and leave her in peace? Could she talk to him or
would she just stammer incoherently? And would it be because he was
a ghost or because looking at him was like looking into the face of
Michelangelo's David?
    Whether she joined him or not, a glass
of wine was a good idea. Good for the nerves. Strictly
medicinal.
    She pulled her favorite white zinfandel
from the fridge with a mental tweak to all the wine snobs who would
look down on her choice. It took four tries before her shaking
hands managed to center the corkscrew, and by the time she
separated the cork from the neck, she was ready to forego the glass
and do a bottoms-up with the bottle.
    She stifled that urge...after the first
long gulp.
    Rummaging in the cupboards, she
unearthed a wine glass and poured the accepted amount. When she
started to stopper the bottle she flicked a glance at the glass,
shrugged, filled it to the rim, then jammed the cork back into the
mouth.
    With a few more sips she felt mellow
enough to confront the lion in his den, so to speak. Or was she a
Christian to the lions? Virgin sacrifice to the gods?
    All three?
    She eyed the glass of wine with
suspicion, wondering if she should quit while she was behind and
dump what was left down the drain.
     
    *******
     
    Jared watched her peer around the door
then try to nonchalantly amble into the living room. She took a
nervous sip of wine when she glanced