Mistletoe Inn

by Jacquie Biggar

  Blaze whined from the back seat and Leo crooned to him. “It’s okay, puppy. Your daddy will save us and then me and mommy can come and stay at your house. Right, Mommy?”

  Her forehead ached from resting against the hard plastic of the steering wheel. So much for their grand adventure. Jason and her mother would have a field day with this one. They were united in their faith that she was hopeless on her own. She’d so wanted to prove them wrong.

  “Yes, honey. We can phone Grandma to come get us from there.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

  Chapter 3

  The door creaked open, letting frigid air leak into the car. Molly jerked, then moaned. She must have passed out again. A sledgehammer had taken up residence in her head and it hurt to breathe, but at least she recalled where she was this time.

  Leo coughed, then stage-whispered, “Mommy’s sleeping.”

  She smiled and cringed, the motion exacerbating the pounding in her skull. “No, I’m not,” she murmured, licking dry lips. It felt like a board was attached to her spine, and then she remembered the stranger who’d come to their rescue.

  “Hello?” she asked, frustrated with her weakness. Headlights from another vehicle lit up the interior with a dull yellow glow, leaving the outside a solid black wall that seemed to press down on her car.

  “How are you feeling?”

  His breath tickled her ear. She tried to crane her head around to see him, but the pain to her right collarbone had her slumping in her seat. “Is my son hurt? I… I hit the bank hard. He was wearing his seatbelt, but please, can you just make sure he’s okay?”

  “Mommy, I have an owie on my forehead,” Leo piped up from the back.

  Oh, God. Please don’t let anything happen to her baby. Please.

  “It’s nothing serious,” the stranger said. “Looks like he bumped the window when you hit. He might end up with a shiner, though. You two will make a good pair.”

  She could feel him pushing against the back of her seat as he leaned across to Leo and tried not to panic. He was here to help. It would just be easier if she could put a face to the voice.

  “Okay, champ,” he said. “I undid your belt. Take my hand and walk across the seat. Can you do that? There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll carry you to my truck and you can wait there with Blaze until I get your mom out.”

  Blaze? He must mean the dog she’d heard whining just before the door opened. For some reason, that calmed her fears. He couldn’t be all bad if he had a pet, right?

  “Do as he says, honey. I’ll be right behind you.” She hoped.

  Alone in the car and immobile, insecurities attacked. She’d dragged her son away from his safe, secure world and traveled across the country on the strength of a maybe. In the middle of a harsh Canadian winter. She needed her head examined.

  Her car door opened and the stranger’s outline blocked the light. “Ready?” he asked, leaning across to turn off the car and unbuckle her seatbelt. Molly sucked in a startled breath when the man’s arm brushed her breast. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Before she had time to digest the strange tingle his touch had wrought, he worked an arm under her legs and behind her back and lifted her free of the wreck. “Ugh,” she whimpered, pain exploding as the blood rushed to her head.

  “Shh.” He gave her legs a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got you now. Hang on, we’ll be home soon.”

  Every step jarred her aching body, so she concentrated on the hope he’d stirred. Home. She’d been so close… wait.

  “Where… where are you taking us?” she whispered, shivering as he trudged through the snow.

  He glanced down, his face in shadow. “The Mistletoe Inn. Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe with me.”

  She frowned. Instead of the relief she should have felt, his words left a hollow in her stomach. Determined to rise above the strange reaction, she tried to smile, afraid it came out more like a grimace. “So, I was on the right road then. My son and I were hoping to make it before dark, but with the storm…”

  “Only idiots are out in this weather,” he growled.

  Molly stiffened. “What does that make you then?”

  His grip on her ribs tightened, and then they were at the truck and he was juggling to open the door without banging her head into the frame. The interior light came on, illuminating Leo and the big Shepherd he was clinging to. Her throat clenched. Her poor baby looked as though he’d gone a few rounds in the boxing ring. He had a puffy right eye that was already turning black and blue, and a cut above the eyelid crusted with dried blood.

  “Blaze, in the back,” the stranger ordered. The dog jumped the seat and filled the narrow bench behind Leo, his gaze reproaching. The man gently lowered Molly onto the seat and slid his arms free of her body. She bemoaned the loss of his heat.

  Before he closed the door on her, she reached out and grabbed his arm, encased in a thick winter jacket. “Please, we’ll need our bags. They’re in the trunk.”

  He stared down at her hand until she snatched it back, then closed the door and trudged through the snow to get their luggage. She watched him for a moment, then shrugged off the awkward encounter and smiled at her son. “I guess Christmas pictures are out for Daddy and Grandma this year,” she teased.

  Leo laughed, as he was meant to. “You look funny,” he agreed. “Do we have to go back to Grandma’s now that our car is broken?”

  Molly took his hand, marveling at her little boy’s perceptiveness. “We might. We’ll worry about that later, okay? How are you doing?” She brushed her fingers over his cut. “You have war wounds.”

  Leo felt the bump too but was more interested in the stranger making his way back to the truck, a suitcase under each arm. “He’s really big, isn’t he?”

  Molly nodded, or as much as she could with a book strapped to her neck. “Yes. Lucky for us since he had to pack me over here like a sack of potatoes.”

  Leo giggled. “You’re silly, Mommy.” He hugged her arm.

  She envied his resilience. She felt like she’d gone through his rock tumbling machine. “Love you, Boo.”

  “Love you, too,” he muttered as the driver’s door opened and the man slid into the cab.

  He shot them a glance. “Bags are in the back. All set?”

  “All set,” Leo answered for them, sitting as tall as his three-foot frame would allow. Her little man.

  “Just a minute,” she said as he put the truck in gear. “We don’t know your name.”

  He stepped on the gas, the back of the truck slipping sideways before it gained traction, leaving her car a snowbound mound on the side of the road. “Noah Kincaid. Your new partner.”

  Stunned, Molly gazed out the window at the swirling snow and wondered how her life had spun so out of control.

  Chapter 4

  Noah was acutely aware of the child and his mother, their bodies tense as the snow seemed to take aim at them, sending hypnotizing white bullets against the windshield.

  “Is it always like this?” Molly asked, her voice shaky in the dark interior.

  “Lake Superior isn’t known for its moderate climate, Miss McCarty,” he said, flicking a glance her way. Shock was a concern. He wanted to get her and the kid inside the house before the storm got worse. “What did you expect when you accepted the offer to move to Christmas, Michigan?”

  She choked out a laugh. “Something a bit more romantic? Snowmen and elves and mistletoe, maybe. And it’s Ms.,” she added.

  She was married. Good. Easier, since they would be sharing a house. “Is your husband joining you for Christmas?” If so, he’d make himself scarce. He had no interest in seeing their homecoming celebration.

  “That’s unlikely, we’re divorced,” she said, and shifted as though uncomfortable with the conversation. “Why did you need a partner, Mr. Kincaid? You seem less than pleased to have us here.”

  She had that right. “My aunt wanted you, not me.” She could take that however she liked.

  “Oh, I get it.”
The humor in her voice rankled. “You don’t seem the social butterfly type.”

  “Hell, no,” he muttered, slanting a glance at his passengers. “Sorry, not used to kids.” Leo was staring outside, mesmerized by the falling snow. Molly’s gaze was focused on Noah, and she turned away when he caught her, as though embarrassed.

  “Leo knows not to use bad words, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t come after you to donate to the swear jar. He’s saving for a bicycle. I’m trying to break the habit, too,” she admitted.

  With her wavy blond hair and blue eyes to rival the midnight sky, Molly looked more like an angel than a lowly human with faults. Knowing she had to occasionally add to her son’s cussing jar made her more approachable. Not that it mattered, she was here to do a job, nothing more.

  “I can’t wait to meet your aunt,” Molly said, unaware of the knife she’d just twisted in his heart. “We talked often on the phone. She seems kind.”

  She was. He didn’t know where he’d have been without her. Nowhere good, that’s for sure. “My aunt is dead.” He frowned at her gasp. “Didn’t our lawyer fill you in before you left?” The driveway came up on the right and he took the turn carefully, aware of the layer of ice under the snow waiting to trip up the unwary. They didn’t need any more accidents tonight.

  “No.” Molly’s voice was faint. “When did she… um, pass away?”

  “Ten days ago,” he answered flatly. It still hurt to think about her laying in that hospital bed, pale and unbearably frail. Cancer was a bitch that stole his aunt’s health from the inside out and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.

  “I’m so sorry,” Molly murmured. “Were you close?”

  He clenched the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

  They pulled up in front of the inn and he shut off the truck. The lamp in the den cast a soft glow through the window, highlighting the falling snowflakes piling up on the Weigela bushes in giant cotton balls. Layers of snow clung to the clapboard siding leaving the old building dressed for company like a grande dame with glittering icicles hanging from the eaves for earrings. He loved this old house. When his aunt had first come up with the idea for a bed and breakfast, he’d balked. The idea of waking up to strangers and having to make nice did not appeal, but his aunt was adamant and for the most part it had worked out well. He’d done the maintenance and she’d cooked the meals and socialized with the guests. It had given her a reason to fight the disease depriving her body of strength.

  Noah opened the door and dropped lightly onto the ground, compacting the snow beneath his feet. He turned and looked at his passengers. The kid stared at him with big eyes and for a moment, Noah thought he could see his scars, but the night’s shadows were his friend. The shock would come later, once they were inside the house and he had nowhere to hide.

  “C’mere, kid. I’ll help you down, then carry your mom inside.”

  Leo checked with his mother first. Only when she smiled and gave him a reassuring nod, did he scramble across the seat and accept Noah’s hand. The feeling of small fingers grasping his thumb moved something in his breast and he coughed to rid himself of the sensation. “Where’s your mitts?” he asked gruffly, frowning at the snow.

  “I couldn’t find them,” the boy said, and used Noah’s hand as leverage to jump from the truck. The feathery light flakes floated up, then settled over his red lightning bolt boots in a downy blanket. He took in the scene with wide eyes. “Can I make a snowman?”

  Noah’s rusty laugh surprised himself as much as the kid. “Maybe later. We better see to your mother first.”

  Leo sighed, his breath creating little cloud puffs in the frosty air. “Ookay,” he half-heartedly agreed. He gave a last wistful glance at the piled snowbank along the driveway, then trudged around the vehicle, his head not much taller than the tires.

  Noah followed the miniature tracks and picked up his pace when the passenger door creaked open. “Stay…” there, he’d been about to say when two nylon-clad legs appeared wearing knee-length black leather boots with sensible heels. Molly slid from the cab and would have crumpled if not for his quick reflexes. She gasped as he grabbed her waist and tugged her up against his body. She looked at him with startled eyes and he stilled, waiting for the moment when her expression changed to horror.

  Instead, she knocked him sideways by smiling.

  Chapter 5

  One moment Molly was falling and the next she was snuggled up against a living, breathing brick wall. She sucked in a surprised breath and inhaled a tantalizing mix of pine and citrus. Disarmed, she looked up to thank her rescuer once again, and stilled, arrested by the stark beauty of his face.

  Up until now the evening skies had kept much of her new partner in shadows, but the lights from inside the house spilled over his rangy frame and she realized just how big he was. She stood almost five-nine in her boots and he still towered over her with broad shoulders and strong arms holding her against his chest. Dark, shaggy hair brushed the collar of his parka and a widow’s peak highlighted a broad, lined forehead under his cap. Glittering eyes dared her to comment on the jagged scar running down the left side of his face from cheek to neck, but all she could focus on was the fascinating quirk it gave to his upper lip, like he was smiling at something funny.

  So, she smiled back.

  He frowned and dropped his arms, stepping back a pace. “I said I’d carry you,” he grumbled.

  He reminded her of Leo when he didn’t get his way.

  “I’m perfectly able to walk into the house,” Molly said tartly, though now she wasn’t so sure. At least she knew her neck and collarbone weren’t as bad as she’d first thought. They ached but she could move. Or she could if she got rid of Leo’s book tied to her head. She reached up to untie the scarf and wobbled in her boots.

  Noah grabbed her again, a beleaguered expression taking over his face. Before she could react, he lifted her into his arms like a newborn babe and nodded to Leo. “Get the door, kid. It’s unlocked.”

  Leo’s eyes grew big, no doubt astonished at seeing his mother in a stranger’s arms—though he didn’t seem like a stranger. “Go ahead, son. Mr. Kincaid is practicing his chivalry.”

  Leo looked puzzled by the adult word, then shrugged and headed for the house. Noah, on the other hand, had a bit more to say.

  “Are you mocking me, Ms. McCarty?” He stared at her with an inscrutable look and she barely avoided squirming, uncomfortable with the close proximity of that compelling mouth.

  “It’s Molly,” she admonished. “Sorry. I’m used to speaking to a five year old.”

  “Do I look five to you?” he asked, amusement sparking in those dark eyes.

  Umm, nope. If there was one thing she knew for sure, the hard, masculine chest beneath her breast was not that of a child.

  He let her get away with her silence and followed Leo up to the house, whistling for Blaze to come. The big dog appeared without a sound and waited patiently for the door to open. Leo used two hands to turn the knob and then they were thrust inside on a rush of cold air. Molly’s head swam as Noah kicked off his boots and carried her through the foyer and down a short hall to a den lit by warm Tiffany lamps and a glowing fireplace that made her skin tingle.

  He set her down on a faded brocade sofa and knelt at her feet to tug off her boots, one leg at a time. Molly blushed at the intimacy and brushed his fingers away.

  “I’m not an invalid,” she snapped.

  His brows slid into his hairline and he leaned back, hands in the air. “Maybe not, but you are injured. I was simply trying to help,” he said calmly before rising to tend to the fire.

  Leo stared at her with uncertain eyes, and she gave him a reassuring smile. It wasn’t his fault. The day was catching up to her and she wasn’t handling it well. She lifted her arm, ignoring the twinge in her neck, and invited him to come sit with her. “I need a cuddle. It’s been a long day.”

  He ran over and buried his face in her armpit. She hugged him close and
breathed in his little boy scent.

  “Hey now, what’s that for?” she asked, glancing at Noah’s broad back bent over the fire. Leo mumbled something, but she couldn’t make it out. “What’s that, honey? I can’t hear you.”

  He looked up at her with teary, overtired eyes. “I said, did Bambi’s mommy die?”

  Oh, no.

  In all the confusion after the accident, she’d forgotten what caused it in the first place. She stared at her son’s unhappy face, lost for words. Just the thought of that poor animal laying in a cold ditch twisted her stomach into knots.

  “The deer is fine, kid.” Noah returned the poker to its stand and peeled the dark gray parka from his shoulders.

  Molly’s mouth went dry.

  “How do you know?” Leo asked, his nose in the air.

  “Leo,” Molly chastised. “That’s not the way you speak to people. Apologize, young man.”

  Blaze whined at her tone, rose from his bed by the fireplace and paced over to lay his big head on Leo’s knee, looking up at him with soulful brown eyes.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the dog’s fuzzy ears.

  Noah shrugged and hung his coat over one of two club chairs positioned near the fire. “Don’t worry about it. The deer ran just as I got there thanks to Blaze’s warning. You two are lucky it wasn’t more serious. Your car is going to be down for a while, by the look of it.”

  Oh, no. The rest of their bags were in the car. Molly gazed at her damp dress in dismay. “But, our clothes,” she stammered.

  “The car isn’t going anyplace. I’ll bring them up to the house in the morning when I go to meet the tow truck.” Noah’s gaze ran over her body. “You can wear something of mine for tonight if the luggage in the truck doesn’t have what you need.”

  Even though she’d been married for ten years, his words made her flush. “Thank-you,” she said, and tried not to think of his shirt against her skin. “Is there a body shop in town then?”