Colorado Christmas Magic

by Caitlin McKenna

“It might be, which scares me. It took me years to cut off my feelings for him.”

  “That never works,” Liv grumbled.

  “I know that now. It made me miserable.” She got out of bed, walked over to the window and opened the curtains, instantly bathing her room in the morning sun.

  “Then take a chance. Love is one thing that’s worth it.”

  “You’re right. You always are.”

  “Not always.” Liv made a kissy face to something off camera, and Charley could only assume she was feeding her fish. “I said yes to a date last night that was the worst ever.”

  “Uh-oh. What happened?”

  “Everything. I won’t bore you with the details, but you’d think out of the thousands of single men in LA, I’d at least be able to find one decent guy.”

  “I’m sorry, Liv. Maybe it’s time for a break. I can totally recommend St. Nicholas. There’s more positive energy in this one small town than there is in all of Los Angeles.”

  “That’s shocking to hear, coming from The Cold Hard Facts Queen.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m thinking of changing my blog to The Warm, Heartfelt Facts.”

  “And readers will demand to know what happened to you,” Liv said, on the move again. “But you sound happy.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m glad to finally hear it.” Liv picked up her keys. “Keep me posted on Mr. Jack.”

  “I will.” Charley blew her a kiss, then hung up before discovering that Arthur was sitting on the table. “Morning, Arthur. I see you’ve been getting your exercise around my room.” She straightened out his jacket. “Is that because you’ve been waiting for an update?” She picked him up. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that things are going really well with Jack.” She set him back on the mantel and patted him on the head. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jack slept only a few hours. Thinking about Charley and wondering how he could get Mike to open up to him occupied his thoughts until three in the morning. After he had breakfast with two of the inn’s guests, Tom and Matt, the guys went outside and listened to Mike’s instructions on how to build the model train display. Jack kept getting flashbacks of his uncle’s incredible display in Chicago and knew Mike had to be him.

  As they began erecting a circular raised platform in front of a decorated pine tree, Charley came down the porch steps toward him.

  “Morning,” she said. “Looks like I’m late.”

  “Not at all. Let me introduce you to Mike.” He reached for her hand, and they walked over to where Mike was attaching three-foot legs to the platform. “Mike, I want you to meet Charley.”

  Standing up, Mike took off his glove to shake her hand, and Jack immediately noticed a faded one-inch scar between his index finger and thumb. His body went numb. It’s him.

  “Hi, Charley. Are you up for some decorating?” Mike asked.

  “Anything you need.”

  “Great. Jack, you want to give her the rundown while I finish getting the foundation together?”

  “Uh...sure, no problem.” Jack inhaled sharply, trying process the fact that he had finally found his uncle.

  Mike went back to work while Charley walked with Jack toward Mike’s truck in the driveway.

  Charley eyed him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He wiped his watery eyes. “I think I just—”

  “Morning,” Rebecca said as she and Kim approached. “Mike said to come see you.”

  “Uh... Yes.” He cleared his throat, pushing aside his emotions. “Mike’s brought literally a truckload of miniature pieces for the town that will be positioned around the train tracks. We’re unloading the boxes and sorting the pieces over there.” He pointed to a couple of long worktables that had been set up to make the assembly process move faster. “Can you take these last two boxes over to the staging area and get started on them?”

  “Sure thing,” Kim said as she and Rebecca grabbed the boxes, leaving him with Charley to finish their conversation.

  Charley leaned against the truck, staring at him with concern. “What’s going on?”

  Jack glanced at Mike, making sure he was still out of earshot. “My uncle had a long scar on the back of his right hand. I just saw an identical scar on Mike’s right hand when he took off his glove.”

  “Oh, Jack.” Charley covered her mouth, stunned. “You found him?”

  He cast an eye on Mike. “I think I did.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” she said, hugging him. “How are you going to tell him?”

  He leaned against Mike’s truck. “I was trying to figure that out last night. It’s been twenty years. I don’t know how fragile his memories are. Does he recall bits and pieces, or nothing at all?”

  “I can’t imagine going through something like that.” She shook her head. “What if you stay close to him all day and feel it out?”

  “That’s what I was thinking. If he works with me and feels comfortable around me, then I can try to weave some memories into the conversation.”

  “That seems like a good way to go.”

  “Hey, Jack,” Mike called. “Can you help me a minute?”

  “On my way.” He took a nervous breath.

  “Good luck.”

  He squeezed her hand, then hurried over to Mike.

  * * *

  The guys had been at it for over two hours. Tom and Matt finished tacking down the fake snow on the wooden platform while Mike and Jack screwed in the last of the tracks.

  Jack moved on to setting up the miniature pieces for Mike’s approval. He kept the conversation strictly about the train display, but the nerves in his stomach were starting to be too much for him. “Do you want the bridge in the center or on the side?”

  Mike stood to get an overhead view of the layout. “Let’s put it on the right side, like it’s situated here in town.”

  “You got it.” Jack placed the bridge on the right side. “This is really starting to look like St. Nicholas.”

  “That’s the plan.” Mike connected the caboose to the rest of the train. “I have Charley working on a miniature Santa’s mailbox.”

  “You couldn’t have chosen a better person for the job.” He situated three pine trees next to the bridge. “You have a pretty extensive collection here.”

  “Yeah.” Mike adjusted one of the pieces not yet glued down. “I’ve only been at it for ten years. Imagine if I had started earlier.”

  He didn’t have to imagine. He’d seen his uncle’s equally impressive collection when he was a kid. “Have you always been interested in miniature train displays?”

  “Don’t know.” Mike rummaged around in one of his boxes and pulled out a couple of crossing signals. “But it kind of looks that way.”

  Jack chuckled. “The uncle I mentioned to you, Uncle Bill, he gave me a train set one year for Christmas and helped me set it up.” He watched Mike for any recollection, but couldn’t detect any.

  “So you’re not a novice, either?”

  “No, I am. I was seven at the time, so my uncle did all the work.”

  Mike laughed. “Where are you from, Jack?”

  “I live in Denver.” He placed a miniature clock tower where he believed it should be. “I’m a police detective in the city.”

  “Is that right?” Mike set his eyes on him. “Do you work on a lot of homicides?”

  “I saw a few when I was a police officer, but now I mostly deal with financial crimes—fraud, embezzlement.” He took a deep breath. “Sometimes my cases involve missing persons.”

  Mike stilled for a moment, then stared at the miniature truck he held in his hands. “Missing persons?”

  “Yeah.” Jack stood, turning toward him. “I have a lot of databases at my fingertips. We’re able to connect the dots much faster these days than s
ay...twenty years ago.”

  Mike looked off in the distance before he hesitantly glanced at Jack. “How much success do you have?”

  “Depends on each case, but I’ve reunited half a dozen families over the years. There’s nothing more gratifying about my job than that.”

  Mike moved closer, lowering his voice. “Did Joe tell you about my situation?”

  “He did, and I can help.” Please, let me help.

  “Oh, boy.” Mike blew out a breath. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “No memories have resurfaced for me in quite a while.”

  Jack suddenly heard Charley laugh. He looked over to see she was heading in his direction with Rebecca and Kim.

  “Okay, Mike. I think we got it,” Rebecca said, carrying over a box of selected miniature pieces. “These might work for the town.”

  Mike appeared a little shaky, but he recovered quickly. “Those are great,” he said, looking them over. “Jack and I haven’t started on the town square, so feel free to place and glue wherever you see fit.”

  Charley caught Jack’s eye, wondering how it was going.

  He nodded. “Mike and I are going to take a short break, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure thing,” Charley said. “We’ve got it covered.”

  He and Mike strode over to the front porch where Mary had set up a small table with hot coffee and sugar cookies.

  Jack poured coffee for the two of them while he dove back into their conversation. “I know you said your memories haven’t surfaced for a while.” He handed him a cup. “Sometimes it takes a song or a location, a photo or a voice to trigger someone’s recall.”

  “I’ve tried remembering for twenty years,” Mike said on a sigh before taking a sip of his coffee. “No one came for me in the hospital. Maybe I don’t have a family.”

  It was painful for Jack to imagine lying in a hospital, feeling totally and completely alone. He blinked away the moisture beginning to flood his vision. “I think you do have a family, Mike. Maybe they didn’t know where to look, and you didn’t know where to find them. Please, let me help.”

  Mike got a little teary-eyed and cleared his throat. “What if you find them and I still don’t remember them? That’d be horrible for everyone.”

  “As someone who’s dealt with missing persons, I can tell you that knowing and working with whatever the current situation may be is far better than never knowing what happened at all.”

  Mike crossed his arms and stared off into the woods with a troubled look on his face.

  Jack leaned against the railing. “We had a teen go missing a few years back who was connected to one of my cases. When we finally found her eighteen months later, she had changed dramatically because she’d been forced to let go of her old life. When she returned to her real family, it was tough at first—on her and on everyone she knew. But their love and support got her through it. Her family helped her to find the way back.”

  “That’s a great story, but it’s a big leap for someone like me who’s been missing for twenty years.”

  “It’s also been twenty years for your family,” he reminded Mike. “They’re still wondering where you are.”

  “You mean, if I actually have a family.”

  “You do. I’m sure you do.” Jack desperately wanted to tell him, but not in the middle of building the model train display. Jack handed him his card. “Here’s my cell. Let’s set up a time when we can talk about this further.”

  Mike took the card and looked at it. “Brody.” He tapped the card on the rim of his coffee cup. “I think I used to know someone named Brody. Do you—”

  “Who wants some white chocolate gingerbread croissants?” Mary walked out with a basket of pastries. “Mike, Jack, would you care for one?”

  “Why, thank you, Mary.” Mike reached in and snagged one for himself.

  “Jack, how about you?” She held out the basket.

  “Much appreciated,” he said, taking one, even though food was the last thing on his mind.

  Mary descended the steps and took the pastries around to the other guests.

  “I’d like to talk about this more,” Mike finally said. “Maybe in a couple of days?”

  “Anytime, day or night.” Jack was relieved that Mike might soon know the truth.

  Mike bit into the croissant and smiled. “That woman knows how to bake,” he barely managed to say with his mouth full.

  “She sure does,” he replied, tasting one for himself as Charley came over.

  “How’s it going?” Charley split her gaze between him and Mike.

  “It’s always better with Mary’s baked goods,” Mike said. “I think I might need another one.” He set out to find Mary’s goodie basket.

  “Don’t leave me in suspense.” She turned toward Jack. “What happened?”

  “Mike knows I’m aware of his memory loss.”

  “That’s good,” Charley said. “Did you tell him what you suspect?”

  “I was leading up to it, but I didn’t get that far. I told him I wanted to help him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was hesitant.” Jack took a long breath. “After twenty years, it’s a lot to take in. He finally agreed to talk with me about it later, and I hope he doesn’t change his mind. He’s worried he won’t remember, and that he’ll hurt his family more because of it.”

  Charley bit her lip as the crease between her brows deepened. “What if he met your parents?”

  “It would help, but I don’t know if they could handle it.”

  “You are,” she said, “and if they could help jog his memory, I’d think they’d want to at least try.”

  Charley was right. If Mike was going to remember, he needed to see his brother again and at Christmas—their favorite time of year.

  Mary returned with her goodies. “Charley, would you care for a white chocolate gingerbread croissant?”

  “I’d love one.” Charley picked one out of the basket and took a bite. “Mmm.”

  Jack retrieved his phone from his back pocket. “Mary, do you have another room available, or are you completely booked up?”

  “I’m always booked solid this time of year, but it just so happens that I received a cancellation for tomorrow night not ten minutes ago.”

  “Isn’t that fortunate?” Charley looked at Jack.

  “How long was the reservation for?” he asked.

  “One week.”

  Hope shot through him. “Can you hold the room for me for an hour? I want to see if I can get my parents up here.”

  “Yes, of course, dear. Take your time.”

  “Thank you.” Jack strode away, his heart racing. His parents had been so hopeful when he’d become a detective. They’d assumed he’d be able to find his uncle quickly, but that hadn’t been the case. Now Jack would be putting them through a lot, and what if his uncle couldn’t remember his own brother?

  Jack took a deep breath and dialed his parents’ number. There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A little after four in the afternoon, Jack and Charley trudged into the bed-and-breakfast.

  “I can’t believe we built an entire model train display in one day,” Jack said, physically exhausted.

  “I can’t either,” she replied as they slowly climbed the stairs. “Mary told me the contest judges will be making their rounds tomorrow night. Hopefully, Mike’s creation will give them the edge they need to win.”

  “How can it not? We built a miniature St. Nicholas.”

  “It really looks amazing. I took a ton of pictures, and I bet they go viral when I post them,” she said. “When are your parents coming?”

  “Tomorrow morning sometime.”

  “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing them again.” She pulled out her room key.
“Hey, do you have a mouse in your room that keeps moving?”

  He gawked at her. “A mouse?”

  “Not a real one. You know, one of Mary’s Christmas decorations. Come take a look.” Charley unlocked the door, and he followed her inside where she pointed out a tiny stuffed mouse sitting on the mantel. “He just showed up.”

  “You mean he walked into your room and made himself at home?”

  “Ha-ha.” She set down her things. “Though, come to think of it, Mary said she didn’t bring him in here, so anything’s possible.”

  “Another St. Nicholas oddity.” He stood by the fireplace and examined it more closely. “He’s cute, as far as decorations go.”

  “I named him Arthur.”

  “He looks like an Arthur.” Jack noticed a light scent of gardenias as Charley stood next to him. He hadn’t recalled smelling her perfume earlier that day. Maybe it was because they’d been outside. He was very aware of it now, and there was something stirring about it. He stared at her and the thought of the kiss they shared the night before pushed to the forefront of his mind.

  Charley, however, still had her attention on the mouse. “What decorations do you have in your room?”

  “Reindeer,” he said. “All nine of them.”

  “Aren’t you lucky?” She met his gaze.

  Standing so close to her, face-to-face, brought back memories of dancing with her at prom. How they slowly swayed to the music, how she put her head on his shoulder, how he kissed her that night after the dance, how he couldn’t think of anything else but her.

  He stepped away from the fireplace, pretending he was comparing mantel sizes when, in reality, he was taking a step back from Charley in order to think clearer. “It’s the same size. The reindeer are tiny and don’t take up too much room.”

  “Can you name all nine?”

  “Of course, I can,” he said before he realized Charley would want him to prove it. She crossed her arms, waiting. “Uh...let’s see.” He scratched the back of his head. “There’s Rudolph.”

  “Such a tough one to remember. Looks like I should have bet you serious money.”