Colorado Christmas Magic

by Caitlin McKenna

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, wanting to kick himself for answering without seeing who was calling. “Hey, I can’t talk right now.”

  “I only called to make sure you made it up there safe and sound.”

  Why was she so concerned about his well-being? He should have made a clean break with no friend strings attached.

  “Are you still there?”

  He cleared his throat. “Look, I know I said that we could still be friends, but I don’t think—”

  “How’s the bed-and-breakfast?” she asked. “I hope it’s not run-down like you thought it would be.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to say thank you for staying late the other night, so we could have a real heart-to-heart.”

  “No problem. It was good we did.” Let that be the end of it.

  “Nothing like a good talk to build a strong relationship,” she said. “I was reading an article the other day, and did you know the best marriages start with solid friendships?”

  He sighed. “You know my feelings about marriage.”

  “Who’s talking marriage?” She laughed. “I was talking about friendships.”

  She was like a good magician with a perfect sleight of hand, only she did it with words. He was about to hang up when he remembered what Felicity had said about people being more connected to each other’s happiness than they realized. Could this include Lisa? No. Then again, she was making him uncomfortable because she was uncomfortable, and wasn’t he the cause of that? No. He wasn’t going to second-guess his actions due to what Felicity told him. Lisa was attempting to manipulate his emotions, and he needed to shut that down immediately.

  “Lisa, I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to remain friends. I think it’s best that we go our separate ways.”

  He listened to the silence, waiting for her response, but instead he heard two beeps, telling him the call had been dropped. “No!”

  Jack threw down the phone and dragged his hands through his hair. Things were going so well with Charley. He didn’t need anything messing that up for him—especially Lisa. The fact that she wasn’t accepting the end of their relationship had him worried. Loose ends that didn’t get tied up tended to unravel very quickly.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  With her arms full of Christmas gifts, Charley’s cell began ringing right as she opened the door to her room. She dropped the packages on the table and answered the call before it went to voice mail. “Hey, Liv,” she said, out of breath.

  “Have you checked your blog lately?”

  She hadn’t and was embarrassed to admit it. She was always on top of it, especially after she posted something, but she honestly hadn’t found the time. “No, sorry. I’ve had spotty service since I’ve been here.” She felt guilty for telling her best friend a little white lie. “Is there a problem?”

  “Just the opposite. Several of your readers are sharing their stories about their stay in St. Nicholas, and your loyal fans are asking you for an update,” Liv said. “Who’s Jack?”

  “What?” Charley ran to her computer and turned it on.

  “Someone named Reality Check mentioned a Jack. Are you dating someone there?”

  Charley’s laptop finally booted up and her blog filled the screen. She had over a hundred comments and was having trouble locating the one from Reality Check. “I don’t understand why I wasn’t alerted to all of this activity,” she said, exasperated.

  “I guess it’s because of the spotty service.”

  Slack-jawed, Charley skimmed the comments.

  Don’t waste your time debunking the Scrooge Legend. It’s the real deal. Take it from a rehabilitated Scrooge.

  She scrolled down to some more.

  Are there other Santa mailboxes around the country or just the one in St. Nicholas? Can you put a Scrooge suggestion in for me? I’ll email you his name.

  “Liv, let me call you back.”

  Charley hung up and scrambled to find Reality Check’s new comment.

  Glad to see you’re back on track with Jack. With true love, your heart will sing a song, and bring you to the place where you belong.

  “What? What!” She catapulted out of her chair just as there was a knock at the door. She barely managed to open it before Jack barged in, red in the face with anger.

  “Who is this guy?” He shook his phone. “Did you see this?”

  “Just now,” she said. “Were you able to trace R.C.’s IP address?”

  “Yeah. It went to the North Pole.”

  “What?”

  “As if we’re supposed to believe that Santa is leaving comments on your blog. I have no idea if that trucker named R.C. is the same R.C. on your blog, but I guarantee the one from your blog is here in town, and I don’t like it one bit. That guy is watching us.”

  Santa? North Pole? Charley hid her smile. “We need to talk to Angel.”

  * * *

  Jack was still in a foul mood when he and Charley arrived at the diner. First Lisa, and now R.C. He could handle Lisa, but how was he supposed to deal with a guy he’d never met and didn’t know where to find? The North Pole. Unbelievable. Anyone who redirected their IP address was hiding something. Now this guy was getting a little too personal with Charley, and Jack didn’t know how he could protect her. He hated social media. Sure, she loved her blog, and her readers loved it as well. But if he had anything to say about it, he would insist on doing a background check on anyone and everyone who visited her site.

  “We’d like to sit in Angel’s section,” Charley requested.

  “Away from the window,” Jack added.

  “No problem.” The young hostess, looking no more than eighteen, took them to a quiet table away from any windows.

  “Do you by chance know Reality Check?” Charley asked as they sat down.

  “You mean Santa Claus?”

  Charley immediately caught Jack’s eye.

  He shook his head, refusing to buy into it. The hostess was obviously playing her part in advancing the Scrooge Legend for their star guest, Charley Dawson, a popular magazine blogger—he was sure of it.

  “That’s what I call him because he looks so much like the Santa Claus you see in movies.”

  “He does,” Charley said.

  “He’s such a sweet man. He always knows what to say, and he gives everyone little rhymes that seem to address personal issues.”

  Charley shot Jack a look. “Like what?”

  “Well, like last year, when I was a senior in high school, R.C. was in here, having dinner, when my friends came in and asked if I wanted to hang out with them after I got off work. Of course I said yes, even though I needed to study. I had a big history exam the next morning that counted as a quarter of my grade. After they left, he asked me how I was doing in school. I said great even though my grades had been slipping. It’s like he knew I wasn’t being a hundred percent truthful. I don’t know how he knew about the test, or that I wasn’t going to study, but he left me a note when he paid the bill that said, ‘Studying hard will pave the way. Don’t mess up getting an A.’”

  “Did you go home and study?” Charley asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, and I got an A.”

  “Good for you,” Jack said. “Now, stay off social media.”

  The young hostess gave him a bewildered look, as did Charley, before a large party came in the front door to end the awkward moment. “I better go take care of those customers,” she said. “Have a good dinner.”

  A teasing smile played on Charley’s face. “Gosh, Detective, aren’t you being a little overprotective?”

  “She’s a teen. I’m doing my job.”

  “That’s not it.”

  He groaned, sitting back. “I hate it when things don�
��t add up.”

  “Maybe Reality Check is like you—just looking out for folks.”

  “That guy knows way more than he should.” Jack clenched his teeth.

  “But how?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe this whole darn town is under surveillance.” He blew out an irritated breath, then rubbed his eyes. His conversation with Felicity had gotten under his skin. There was some truth to what she had said and that’s what bothered him. He couldn’t cherry-pick what he wanted to believe and what he didn’t. “Why is it that no logical explanation sticks to anything here in St. Nicholas?”

  “Welcome back,” Angel said, walking up to the table. “How’s your day been going?”

  “Interesting...” Charley looked to Jack to fill in the rest, which he was not about to do. He already knew he’d get more questions than answers in return.

  “Do tell,” Angel said with glee in her eye. “Is it something juicy?”

  “Hate to disappoint, but it’s nothing like that,” Charley said. “Someone named Reality Check left me a couple messages on my blog.”

  “How nice!” Angel snapped back into her professional friendly manner.

  “Not nice,” Jack said. “More like overstepping boundaries.”

  “What Jack is trying to say is that I don’t know your trucker friend. The comments are very specific about me and Jack, and we’re having a difficult time making the connection.”

  “If you’re worried about him, don’t be.” Angel waved the thought away. “He’s been a real help to many of the folks here in town. One customer described talking to him as a ‘warm friendly hug.’”

  “I’ll bet,” Jack said sarcastically. There was something off about the man. He was hiding something, and Jack didn’t like that one bit.

  “Thanks for letting us know,” Charley said, stepping in.

  “Anytime. Now, what will you be having for dinner this fine evening?” Angel bounced her gaze between the two. “In addition to our regular menu, tonight’s special is homemade chicken potpie.”

  Charley’s face lit up. “I’m sold.”

  “Make it two.”

  As soon as Angel left, Jack fixed his eyes on Charley. “I’m still not convinced Reality Check isn’t a threat. And what if he’s not a sweet old man?”

  “According to Angel and the hostess, that’s exactly what he is. Besides, we can’t confirm that it’s him. Anyone could be posting under Reality Check.”

  Jack looked away, drumming his fingers on the table. “Did you feel like someone was following you today?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “In fact, while I was Christmas shopping, I kept looking around for you, so I would have noticed. Seriously, Jack, I live in LA and I’m always aware of my surroundings. I think you’re making too much of it.”

  He let out a resigned breath. “Okay, I’ll drop it, for now.” She was probably right, but once he discovered Reality Check’s true identity, he’d be doing a very deep dive on the guy, just to be sure.

  * * *

  It took a while before Jack emerged from his surly mood. Charley asked him if something had happened aside from finding R.C.’s comment, and he dodged the question, which didn’t sit well with her. She was most likely making too much of it, like Jack was doing with R.C.

  “You went Christmas shopping?” Jack squeezed lemon into his tea. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

  “I don’t, but today was different. It didn’t feel like a chore this time. I kept running across the perfect gift for everyone on my list. That never happens. Now I can hold my head high because everyone will get a real gift from me this year instead of a gift card.”

  “Everyone?”

  Charley wanted to laugh at the adorable expression he had on his face. It was an excited, hopeful look, like he was wondering if he made her list, mixed with worry that he hadn’t. “I might have a little something for you.”

  His face split into a huge grin. “What did you get me?”

  “I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to wait.” She almost said he’d have to wait until Christmas but stopped short. She didn’t know if they’d be together at Christmas. They hadn’t exactly talked about it. After her complimentary week was up, what then? Was she supposed to go back to her life in Los Angeles—a life without Jack? She didn’t want to think about that. It was too depressing.

  “I have to wait? For how long?” His eyes implored, almost as if he were daring her to open the topic they were dancing around.

  “Depends,” she said, playfully, as though that would somehow make her feel less vulnerable. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe Christmas...”

  Jack’s grin widened. “Christmas, huh? Sounds like I better get some shopping done.”

  Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in his reaction. He wanted to spend Christmas with her.

  “Here you go. Two chicken potpies.” Angel carefully set them down. “They’re piping hot inside, so be careful.”

  Charley admired the gorgeous golden crust. “I’m starting to think St. Nicholas should also be known for its food.”

  “I’ll back you up on that one,” he said, already with a mouth full.

  “Here’s a crazy thought...” She pierced the top of her potpie with a fork to let the steam out. “What if a child is picking up the mail?”

  He nodded, finishing a bite. “I thought of that, but he would have to be a very focused, smart kid whose parents would allow him to stay up late every night.”

  “Maybe he’s a very short adult.”

  “It’s possible. He could hide behind the mailbox a lot easier if he were, which would also explain why the lock is in the back.”

  “We’ll know tonight when we finally catch him,” she said, confidently.

  “Speaking of which, you’re going to love the new setup. There are now four motion sensor floodlights covering the mailbox. No matter which direction the mail collector comes from, he or she will be seen. Guaranteed.”

  “So, that’s what you were doing.” She assumed as much but was happy to hear it from him. “Mary said you and the boys were up to something.”

  “The boys?” Jack chuckled. “She said that?”

  “Yeah. You, Joe, and their handyman?”

  “Mike. I guess he’s the number one handyman here in town.”

  She took another bite of her potpie. “That was nice of him and Joe to help you out this morning.”

  Jack leaned back and had a look on his face that she was beginning to recognize. He was analyzing something or someone.

  “Did something happen?”

  He stared into his glass of iced tea. “I actually met Mike yesterday. He was fixing my shower when we returned from ice-skating. He called me young man, and he has the same blue-gray eyes that I do.”

  “That’s a strange coincidence, considering we were just discussing your uncle,” she said. “I’m guessing Mike reminded you of him?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Every year I run an old photo of my uncle through an age progression program. I did it a few days ago, but I neglected to take weight gain into account. I reworked it, adding forty pounds, and now he looks a lot like Mike.”

  “Are you serious? Did you show him the photo?”

  “No. Joe said Mike had been hit by a car twenty years ago and has no long-term memory.”

  Her heart stilled. A phrase and the color of one’s eyes could be coincidence, but what about the gift she bought Jack? Had the toy sailboat been carved by his uncle’s hand? She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it. What if she was wrong? Wouldn’t she be giving him false hope? She ran a hand over her lips. “Do you think he’s your uncle?”

  He sat back with a big sigh. “I want to believe he is, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.” His eyes were uncertain, vulnerable
. “And what if I’m wrong? I don’t want to freak the guy out, or get his hopes up.”

  “I can certainly understand that.” She needed to talk to the toy store manager as soon as possible. “Maybe we can somehow get confirmation that it’s him, or maybe you can figure out a way to talk to him.”

  “I tried earlier. I asked too many questions this morning, and he shut down. I need to find a way to approach the subject without making him feel uncomfortable.”

  She fell silent, thinking of a solution. She was in awe at the constant synchronization that continued to happen in her life, and in Jack’s. If ever there was a place to find his missing uncle, it would be St. Nicholas. “Is there anything you can say or do that might jog his memory?”

  “Maybe—if I were still ten.”

  Charley took a deep breath, wanting to figure something out for Jack. “Let’s say it’s him. There has to be a way to trigger his memory, something from the past. What was the biggest project you two worked on together?”

  His eyes lit up. “A few months before he went missing, Chicago was getting ready for their annual Christmas expo. He was hired to build a no-frills model train display, but Uncle Bill went all out and built a massive one. I helped out every day after school, and over two consecutive weekends. It turned out great. My uncle even won an award.”

  “That’s awesome. I wonder if a model train display could trigger his memory. With so many Christmas decorations in this town, there’s got to be one somewhere.”

  Angel stopped to check on them. “I’d ask how you like our potpie, but I can see that for myself.” She eyed their almost empty plates.

  “Another winner,” Jack said.

  “Hey, Angel, are there any model train displays around town?” Charley asked.

  “No, but our Christmas festival starts tomorrow, and if you’re looking for Christmas activities, there’ll be door-to-door caroling, the Christmas cookie crawl, the best snowman competition. You’ve probably noticed an increase in decorations around the residential homes this week. Sunday night is the home decoration contest and the winner will be announced Monday. Whoever wins will get their electric bill paid by the city for an entire year.”