A very Mary Sheikhy Christmas - novella - completed

Chapter One

Coming across a driveway was like an answer to his prayer, even if there was only an abandoned building or shack; it would get him out of the cold and snow. With a sudden urge of energy, his footstep quickened and followed the driveway into the thickness of the trees, losing sight of the road.

His fingers began to hurt at lack of feeling, shoving into his pants pockets, taking longer strides, letting out a breath of relief as he spotted a lone log cabin like a welcoming inn to a stranger in the dark bleak night. Yet, it wasn't night, was it? Barely morning. His teeth began to chatter as his body core became colder. Once more he quickened his pace. Finally treading towards the front door and pressed the doorbell.

A sound of music chimed. He blinked, as if he was dreaming to press again. He must be hallucinating the whole thing. No. Once again he heard it and a fairly familiar tune for this time of year, yet a different verse. He pushed the button once more time still unbelieving what he was hearing to have the chorus line of Jingles Bells. Yes, he had heard right.

He stepped back, looking over the ivory with bells and berries, Christmas wreaths on the door and down the sides with Reindeer bells. He looked up and stepped off towards the side, away from underneath the mistletoe that was hanging above his head. If it hadn't been for the big beacon of light shining down from above, he never would have seen it in the flurry of snowflakes. Not exactly a blizzard, but it was snowing. In summer.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his damp hair. Still no answer. What? Did he have to play the whole song before it was answered? He peered into a window on the far side of the door, viewing a glow from inside. He went back and knocked this time before he froze to death. He was beginning to feel chills upon chills. At least there was no barking dog. Adding snarling teeth to the list wasn't what he wanted to confront. He just needed to get out of the cold, even if that meant he had to break in.

Finally the door opened and met by the last thing he had expected. A redheaded angel, who was dressed like a walking advertisement for Christmas, wearing a white cable off the shoulder sweater over flowery reindeer leggings and reindeer ears bouncing on her head. Holding a bright red bauble in her hand, ready for a tree, his feeble mind gathered.

"Oh, hello, were you just jingling me?"

A dark brow arched. Jingling me? Oh, yes, jingle bells. "I guess you could say that," he noted through clenched teeth, stopping them from chattering, from the cold that run through his body.

"Can I help you?" She asked warily. Something he could understand, if he wasn't so damn cold. He was used to the heat. Never had he been as cold to the bones as he was now, not even when in the Alps of Switzerland, skiing. His feet felt like icebergs, socks wet from the soaking in his shoes. Probably not the most suitable shoes for such conditions, especially when walking, snow crunching under his feet.

"There was a car accident."

Her eyes widened as she paled slightly. "Really? Are you alright?" Her voice shook slightly at the news. "Oh, please come inside. In here, next to the fire. Is there anyone else involved?" She asked, looking behind him as she stepped aside,concerned.

"No, just me and a car in a ditch on the side of the road," he noted thankful, also wanted to scold her for being too trusting and so eager to help. "Are you alone? Or with family?"

"Just me, by the way it's Mary," she chirped, ushering him inside, removing his shoulder bag, urging him towards the open fireplace, where a fire was a-blazing. Crackled, and glowed, a beckon of heat and light, calling to him, where he lifted his hands towards the warm.

"Coffee?" She asked, placing his bag into a chair.

"Die for one," he turned, warming his back, while kicking off his shoes, almost seeing steam coming off his socks that he removed and shove into his shoes, wiggling life back into his feet. The hem of his pants' damp. "Just wanted I needed Mary. Zareef," keeping to first names only, which suited him.