by Susan Hatler
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to stay upbeat and positive. I loved my job here at Silver Bells Luxury Tours and short of Santa and his elves, who else had the chance to make people’s Christmas dreams come true? When I’d started working here last year, I’d been doing Harmony’s job and then quickly took over more duties. Now, I managed the business side and helped customers book our unique luxury excursions for their vacation. Locals received a discount and we had guests who returned annually with their friends and family. These tours blended luxurious outdoor adventures and the magic of Christmas. This was the perfect job for me. I just hoped I’d be able to keep it. “Any changes in today’s schedule?”
“Nope.” Harmony shook her head, her banana blond hair bouncing around her shoulders, before she went back to typing at her computer.
I took off my coat and hat and shook out my long dark hair before changing into the heels I kept behind the desk. Peering over Harmony’s shoulder, I checked the calendar. 10:00 a.m., Adam Kline. I checked the time on her computer: 9:45.
If Adam Kline were anything like his father, Larry Kline, then he would be arriving about twenty minutes late for the meeting, would saunter in with a smile on his face and some tale about sitting in the snow with a child who’d claimed not to believe in Santa Claus. Of course, by the time my old boss had finished with the child, he or she would have no doubt Santa was real.
Not unlike Santa himself, Mr. Kline had been a big man with an equally big heart and a white beard, which, I suspected, he’d deliberately cultivated so he could play the part to perfection. We booked outdoor excursions year-round, but several of the special tours excelled during the holiday season. As soon as December would hit, on would go Larry’s red sweaters, and he wouldn’t even entertain wearing another color until after December 25th. Or so I’d heard from the other employees.
This was the first year since Larry started the company that he wouldn’t be here. In fact, he wouldn’t be here ever again. He’d died suddenly last spring after a heart attack. He left the business to his city-boy son, who worked at a PR firm in New York City. I’d never heard directly from Larry’s son, not even when I told him about the local memorial service we’d held in honor of his father. Instead, I’d exchanged emails with the new owner’s assistant and the responsibility of day-to-day operations went to me. Unfortunately, without Larry’s marketing skills the business had not been doing well.
“Excuse me, Ms. Sterling?” a deep male voice asked.
“Agh!” I jumped back and my heart pounded—partly because I’d been deep in thought, partly because I hadn’t expected to hear my name, but mainly because the voice was exactly the same as my Mr. Kline’s had been, deep and soulful. What the . . .?
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Adam Kline. The new owner of Silver Bells Luxury Tours? I was told you’d be expecting me.”
“Yes, of course . . .” I turned, faced Adam Kline and then promptly forgot what I’d been about to say. My breath caught in my throat. The man was beyond handsome. He wore a dark business suit that fit his athletic physique perfectly. His lips were plump and parted just enough to reveal a line of straight white teeth. His square jaw was clean-shaven and his short, dark hair was styled back. And his eyes were what really got me. Two pools of icy blue, framed by a thick set of black eyelashes. Oh, hotness.
Harmony gave me a nudge and a meaningful look.
“Uh, Ms. Sterling?” he asked, holding out his hand.
“Please, call me Faith,” I said, trying to recover and hopefully sounding professional. I took the hand he offered me and when his fingers closed around mine my knees went weak. Not a good reaction to meeting my new boss. Not good at all. “I’m sorry. It’s just that your voice . . .” My voice trailed off and I bit my bottom lip.
“Sounded just like my dad’s? Yes, I get that a lot. Or, I used to,” he said, his expression changing to an unreadable look.
“I’m sorry,” I said, thinking this had to be the most awkward meeting in history. I glanced at Harmony, who seemed to be watching our exchange with interest. When Adam bent to pick up his briefcase, she winked at me and mimed a “get in there” gesture with her elbow. I managed to grab her elbow just as Adam straightened again.
“Shall we begin with a tour?” he said, moving to the side and giving me space to come out from behind Harmony’s desk.
“Certainly,” I said, stepping up beside him and offering a silent thanks to the universe that I had put my heels on and at least looked like a business manager even after my odd greeting.
“I’d like to start with having a look around the grounds, if that’s okay? There’s plenty of time to tour the business office and the store next door later on, but I’d like to tackle outside while it’s still light,” he said, checking his watch as if we were already running late and he wanted to get a move on pronto.
“All right,” I said, wishing Adam wouldn’t be in a hurry. Silver Bells had so much to offer that it would take days to show my new boss all of its delights and I wanted him to savor everything and fall in love with the place right away. “Let’s get you some outdoor clothing.”
I led him to the equipment storage and asked Tim—who was in charge of loaning out skis, snow suits, and all the other winter fun gear—to deck Adam out, while I went to my office to change into my own snow boots and warm hat.
I waited out front for Adam, wondering how he’d like Montana clothing after all these years. I was used to dressing for the cold mountain weather, but Adam had been living in Manhattan so would be used to dressing for city living. However, when he joined me outside he looked every bit the seasoned outdoorsman in a deep blue padded jacket that made his eyes stand out even more as he squinted into the sun.
He clapped his gloved hands together. “Shall we start?”
“Our ride is pulling up now.” I smiled, as a horse drawn sleigh appeared from behind the stables, jingle bells tinkling and the sound of hooves clomping on the ground.
“That’s our ride?” Adam looked from the sleigh to me, and then back to the sleigh again as he raised his eyebrows.
I nodded and he offered his hand to help me up, before I climbed in. He sat down beside me and spread the red velvet blanket over our laps—a gesture I’d never found intimate until now. The driver sitting in the seat in front of us signaled the horses, who began walking through the snow as I pointed out different things to Adam.
“You see that tree over there? That’s where your dad used to sit and carve wooden cars for Santa’s toy cart. And you see that stable to the right? That’s where he said he slept whenever his favorite horse got sick. What was its name again?”
“Blitzen.” Adam stared at the wooden building as we drove slowly past. “I remember that horse from before I moved to New York. He named it after the reindeer. Wouldn’t call him Rudolph because he said that would be too obvious,” Adam said, his voice low and sad, almost as if he were talking to himself.
I touched him on the arm. “I’m sorry about your dad, Adam. He was a wonderful man, so kind and generous, and he adored Christmas. When we lost him it was as if a light had gone out of Silver Bells. But now that you’re here . . .”
Adam opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, his eyes searching my face and heating my skin along this trail. If this were a romantic movie he would lean in right now and gently touch his lips to mine, my eyes closing as I kissed—
He cleared his throat. “You look like you’re about to faint. Everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said, realizing my mind had clearly gone to a place his hadn’t. I mentally rolled my eyes, cursing my over-fertile imagination. “I’m fine, thank you. Just had something in my eye,” I said, trying to cover-up what I’d thought had been a moment. Reminding myself that I was at work and with my new boss I looked around us, the main building far behind as we headed into the forest of snow-laden fir trees. “We’re nearly there.”
We passed a wooden sign, which had been hammered onto a trunk of one o
f the trees that lined the path and it spelled out: Santa’s Grotto. Adam took out a notebook, pulling his glove off with his teeth, and wrote something down.
“That sign will need to be repainted. Can you get the maintenance guy to do it first thing in the morning?” he asked.
“Repainted?” I looked at the sign, the first of many rustic, old-fashioned signs, which pointed the way to Silver Bells Luxury Tours’ very own Santa’s Grotto.
“Yes, the sooner the better.”
“Adam, that sign was made by your dad over a decade ago when he first built Silver Bells,” I said, my voice lifting as I pointed to the tree we’d passed. “He told me he carved that sign while sitting under that tree back there. Your dad never changed a thing and kept Santa’s Grotto exactly the way he built it, which is why it’s part of Christmas Mountain history now.”
Adam frowned as he listened, and for a moment I wondered if I’d been too abrupt. After all, he was my boss, and although I practically ran this place, I was still just an employee.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so distraught. The historic charm is part of what we love about the signs.”
He was writing as I spoke, and he paused. “How many signs are there between here and Santa’s Grotto?”
I counted on my fingers as I walked the trail in my mind, smiling as I thought about the little village nestled in the forest. “Five, I think, or maybe six?”
He nodded, underlined something in his notebook and then snapped the book shut as the carriage came to a halt. “You’re right.”
“I am?” I asked, thinking that was easy. A victorious sigh escaped my mouth as I stepped onto the snowy ground, turning back to see the Silver Bells Luxury Tours store in the distance, with its gold letters on the shop’s front window. “Another day, another dollar, Mr. Kline,” I said, saying what I used to say to my boss as if the store were the man himself.
Adam stepped down beside me. “Another dollar will be tough in this market and that’s why—”
“What the . . .?” I jumped backward and spun, intending to face Adam but instead stepped onto a patch of ice and then pitched backward toward the sidewalk below. And what did my brilliant instincts tell me to do? Did they tell me to try and regain my balance? Did they suggest I put out my arms to break my fall? No, of course not. That would have made sense. Instead, I let out a high-pitched squeal and snapped my eyes shut, as if not being able to see might shield me from the pain I was about to endure.
Except, I never endured any pain at all.
Someone caught me.
When I opened my eyes, I was safely enveloped in a pair of firm arms, my nose level with my savior’s chest as he lifted me to an upright position. Trembling and noticing the heat on my cheeks, I stepped back—making sure to avoid the icy patch—and looked up at Adam. My breath caught in my throat as his icy blue eyes peered at me intensely.
If my heart hadn’t already been running a mile a minute from my almost-fall, it would have sped up the moment my gaze met his. His lips morphed into a smile, bringing out two deep dimples in his cheeks that made him look even more appealing. For a fleeting moment, I seriously had to stop and consider if I’d actually fallen and hit my head on the ground and was dreaming I was in a romance movie. One of those cheesy Christmas ones I binged every weekend of December with a carton of ice cream and a hot cider.
But, no, this scene wasn’t the result of a head injury. It was really happening. The moment I realized that was also the moment I realized I’d been staring at Adam for at least thirty seconds with a dumbstruck look on my face. Words. I needed to make words.
“Um . . . thanks. Thank you,” I said, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets. “I’m not usually that clumsy.”
“No problem,” he said, his voice low and sultry and his face still close to mine. He kept hold of my elbow as if worried I’d fall again.
I pushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in front of my face and then gave him a slight smile of my own. “What had you said before I made a fool out of myself?”
He blinked once as if trying to remember. “Oh, right. I was saying that there’s no point in repainting the signs when they’re going to be thrown away anyway. Unless you’d like to keep one as a memento.”
My eyebrows came together and a feeling of dread crept up my spine. “A memento? Of what? Sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“A memento of Silver Bells, to remember it by. You seem to love this place, Faith. So you might like a keepsake before the new owners take over.”
“What?” I asked, raising my voice, but not caring one bit.
“I assumed you knew.” He gave me a side glance, along with a curious look. “I’m only in town for three weeks to sell Silver Bells Luxury Tours. I have to get back to Manhattan as soon as possible.”
My lips moved but nothing came out. Adam Kline was so not Santa. In fact, he might just be the anti-Santa, ready to ruin Christmas for all of Christmas Mountain (including me) by selling Silver Bells and not seeming to care at all. Well, not if I could help it.
“Larry loved this business. And I know he’d love to see you running it. He always talked about how much he wanted you to come visit. He’d want you to have Silver Bells.”
The moment the words had left my mouth I wished I could take them back. There was a shift in the air as it gained a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. Adam pulled his hand from my elbow and then scratched the back of his neck as his gaze dropped to the ground. The corners of his mouth turned downward.
A silence fell between us and while all I wanted to do was apologize for getting so personal, I couldn’t do anything but bite my lip and wait for him to look back at me. The ringing of his cellphone cut through the air and he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen.
“I should take this. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow to go over the books. Nice to meet you, Faith,” he said, his voice still friendly but the hint of intimacy that had been turning my legs to jelly a minute ago had been replaced with a business-like tone.
“Yeah,” I said, a little more eagerly than I had intended. “You’ll, uh, catch me later.”
I sighed, unable to believe I’d made such a lame joke after putting my foot in my mouth. I smacked myself in the forehead. That tour with my new boss hadn’t gone exactly as I’d hoped it would. It was only a few seconds, however, before I was shaking off my self-doubt and squaring my shoulders as I turned once again to look at Silver Bells Luxury Tours again.
Adam would be in town for three weeks, which meant I had three weeks to convince him not to sell his father’s business. He cared about his dad a lot, which was obvious from his reaction when I’d brought Larry up. That had to mean there was a chance. If he sold the business there was no doubt in my mind he would end up regretting it, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I’m going to fix this, Mr. Kline,” I spoke to the name on the front window. “I promise.”
Larry Kline had offered me a job when I’d needed one most, so there was no way I was giving up on the business he’d put his heart and soul into. No matter what it took, I’d find a way to keep his dream alive by convincing his son to never sell Silver Bells Luxury Tours.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Adam Kline arrived to the Silver Bells Luxury Tours store looking even better than I’d dreamed about last night with those full lips and incredible eyes. Ugh, why was I fantasizing about my new boss? I reminded myself he was the guy who wanted to sell the business that meant so much to me. He was also the guy whose mind I needed to change. I doubted I could do that by dating him.
Although a very big part of me wouldn’t mind trying.
My dating life hadn’t been so great lately, anyway. No need to torch it further. Honestly, it hadn’t been good in a few years. My last boyfriend had been so annoyed when I broke up with him that he’d called me independently heartless. Um, what did that mean? Not exactly a compliment meant to win back my affections. But, wha
tever. I’d wasted four months of my life with him and got over that relationship by hiking a trail around Mt. Rainier.
Ah, extreme bliss and no name-calling.
My parents are very put together and they couldn’t make their marriage work. So, why should my love life be any different? The only things I could count on were my friends, the mountains, this charming town, and my job. Except that Adam would make me lose my job if he sold the business. Argh! Well, no way. Not going to happen, buddy.
“Good morning, Faith,” Adam said, from the doorway leading to the back room of the store. “I need something from you.”
The name of my favorite restaurant, my favorite flower, or my favorite wine? How about my input on where we should go on our first date? I shook my head. Get a grip, Faith. I really needed to start listening to some less romantic meditation music before bed.
“You need something, huh?” I asked, thinking I needed something from him, too. My job, not a date. I pushed back the chair I’d been sitting in and stood. The back of the office space was utilitarian, and boring. Nothing in the plain room but two desks, cabinets, computers and sticky notes. “I need to check on a few things out front. Can we walk and talk?”
“I possess that talent, yes,” he said and waited for me to exit first.
As I passed by him, I caught the faint scent of spicy cologne that gave me the urge to nuzzle my face in his collar. Oh, man. I really needed to stop with the fantasizing about my boss. Well, my soon-to-be ex boss if I didn’t play my cards right.
I went through the door between the business offices and the store, walking into a glorious ode to luxury and outdoorsy fun. Who says you can’t enjoy the mountains in style? Not us. Snowshoes hung from the vast fishing net attached to the ceiling. Skis and poles were arranged to look like they’d go flying out the door on their own at any minute. There were expensive outfits for men and women, modeled on mannequins.
