Page 40 of Frosted and Sliced

Finally she reached the top, and that was when she felt it, a strange vibration beneath her right hand.

She glanced down, a tactical error, because the ground was very, very far and, oh, no, maybe she was a tiny bit petrified of heights after all.

The other thing her eyes beheld was a furious Burke. He held a metal pipe in one hand, and he’d apparently used it to bang on the ladder so it would vibrate and get her attention. When he had that, he pointed to the ground and mouthed,Down. Now.

Wreath. Here,she mouthed, forgetting he couldn’t read lips.

He pointed to the ground.

She motioned to the wreath and almost took a header backwards off the ladder.Right, so extraneous motion is out,she thought. At this point that included breathing because she’d started to hold her breath so long she was seeing spots again. Her arms slid around the ladder and gripped for dear life, another mistake because the giant wreath banged against her left side, almost knocking her asunder again.

The ladder vibrated again. She chanced a glance at Burke, wishing desperately that he would come up and carry her down, fireman style, and that gave her an idea.

“Can you call the fire department and tell them your landlord is stuck on a ladder?” she yelled. “Tell them if they come, I’ll give them cookies.”

His face softened slightly. The motion of his hand changed from a demanding point to a come hither crook of three fingers.

“I’ll fall,” she yelled.

“I’ll catch you,” he assured her.

She hesitated. Did she trust that Burke would catch her if she fell?

Yes. She took a step down the ladder.

As soon as she was within reach, he grabbed her from behind and set her on the ground, holding her tightly against him, her back to his front. She was trembling, she realized as her heart thumped relentlessly. He was breathing hard in her ear. Shechose to believe it was out of fear and not from the exertion of hefting her off a ladder. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him, and started to yell.

“What were you thinking? Have you lost your mind?”

“I needed to get the wreaths up,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

“You were mad. It seemed easy,” she argued.

“Did it seem like it was worth dying for?” he yelled.

“It was a straight climb, easy peasy. Don’t be so dramatic.” Even as she said it, she knew she was wrong. Burke wasn’t exactly the overly reactionary dramatic type. But she was so mad and flustered and, yes, embarrassed that she’d almost died for wreaths. In retrospect, this hadn’t been her best idea. It was too late though; she was entrenched in defending herself.

“Maybe it’s a straight climb for someone who knows how to use a ladder.”

Gasoline to a fire,Georgie thought, her temper flaring to impossibly greater heights. “I can use a ladder, Burke. It’s not rocket science.”

He pointed to the base of the ladder, where one of the feet was resting crookedly instead of flat, and then upward toward the ladder’s middle. “You didn’t lock it. You were five seconds from collapsing, and that’s if you didn’t pitch backwards because you had it at the wrong angle. Don’t you know anything about physics?”

“Of course I don’t know anything about physics, I own an inn in a small town. Why would I?” she yelled, tossing her hands wide. The entire argument was ridiculous, but pride wouldn’t allow her to let it go.

“Everyone should have a rudimentary understanding of physics,” he bellowed, and that did it. Georgie broke. A giggle tittered out of her. She stared up at him with big eyes as he huffed and puffed, scowling down at her. She leaned forward onher toes and pressed the cold tip of her nose into the crook of his neck, grabbing his shirt in both fists to anchor herself.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I messed it up. And I’m sorry about before.”

He didn’t speak, because that would have been pointless when she couldn’t see his lips. But he did ease his arms around her and rub a little circle on her back. Then he picked her up, not like she’d earlier fantasized, cradled in his arms like a lifesaving fireman. She was straight up and down, like a baton he was about to pass to the marathoner behind him. But she’d take it.

“You’re freezing,” he said and proceeded to carry her inside.

Her feet paddled uselessly as they walked, like one of those puppies who mimics swimming when held over water. He somehow managed to open the entryway, close it, and set her down, all without breaking stride. He took a breath and ran his fingers through his hair, which had no effect whatsoever because it was a buzz cut. But it was a gesture she’d never seen him use before, and she thought it communicated some sort of emotional upset, so she waited patiently and silently for him to speak.

“When I was fifteen, I entered an engineering contest and I won. The first prize was a full ride to MIT.”

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