The man passed out.
When he woke up in the hospital, half of his face had been so damaged he was nearly unrecognizable. His flesh was puckered and scarred. He’d lost an eye. No amount of painful surgeries could repair the damage the fire had done to his face.
The two young boys had snuck into the cafe after hours to smoke. Carelessly tossing their still lit cigarettes, they ignited a grease fire in the kitchen. The man should have been deemed hero for saving them.
Instead, he was served papers naming him as the defendant in a lawsuit by the parents of the teens who deemed him responsible for the fire. They noted faulty equipment and unlocked doors led to the accident and sued him for five million dollars.
The man settled the lawsuit for an undisclosed sum.
The townspeople gathered at their work, school, and in the streets and whispered behind the man’s back. They gossiped about what happened and took sides, mostly the parents’ side. The press hounded him incessantly for a statement, focused on securing a juicy holiday story, and camped out on his front property for weeks. Cameras flashed constantly in his disfigured face every time he tried to leave his home on top of that mountain, overlooking Starlight Bend.
The man who was once called Santa Claus withdrew to his mansion. The gates swung closed and the man was never seen again in the town.
Some of the towns people tried to reach out to the man several times but were never allowed through the gates. When a devastating flood damaged the local animal shelter and they needed help finding homes for the animals, Sally Poole told the town the man on the mountain had hung up on her. The charities that used to be funded by the man closed. Business loans were suddenly due and were refused extension. Slowly, the man was dubbed the Grinch of Starlight Bend. Over time, the town forgot about the man and returned to their busy lives, trying to restore the community as best they could without the help of the Grinch of Starlight Bend.
This is where our story begins.
Chapter One
Josephine (Joey) Whitman pulled her red scarf closer to her face and fought through the icy, whipping wind. She was already behind schedule, but hadn’t been able to visit the Christmas Wish Tree yet. With one more home visit before her day was done, she figured she’d swing by the Big Sky Living store first before the evening shopping rush hit.
Her brown boots crunched over dirty ice and snow, as she hastened her pace. It had been a harsh winter and another snowstorm was rolling in. She shivered as a blast of wind came down off the mountain. She craved to be back in her warm, cozy house, sipping tea in front of the fireplace. The stack of books on her coffee table whispered her name, and Outlander had been DVR’d. Normally, winter was her favorite season, but this year had been unseasonably cold. At least her demanding work schedule and hermit tendencies were more expected in winter. Once spring hit, her friends consistently bugged her to attend parties, dinners, and of course, find a date.
Her nose wrinkled. Why were others so bothered by her single status? Her girlfriends always reminded her the 2 to 1 ratio of men to women in Starlight Bend as if that were the most precious gifts the Gods could bestow upon them. But Joey liked being on her own. Her best friend Megan, often tried to drag her on double dates, and though the men were quite nice, Joey was just as happy to be home with her books and her shows.
Sure, the holiday season sometimes gave her a twinge of loneliness with all that mistletoe and cuddling by the fire stuff, but ultimately, she was satisfied with her life. She’d accepted long ago she wasn’t like other women who wanted and needed the excitement of being swept off their feet by a man. To be wined and dined until wedding bells rang and then babies came. She preferred the simpler things in life and men brought complications. Besides, the few bad dates she had gone on reminded her she was much happier with her own company than being tortured for hours with a man she was never going to see again.
Joey walked through the sliding doors of the Big Sky store and relished in the muggy, warm air that swarmed her the moment the doors swished closed. The magnificent tree stood in the center of the popular sporting, fishing, and outdoor apparel store. The rural town of Starlight Bend didn’t have many shopping choices, so this sprawling log cabin store was essentially their local mall.
She headed to the center square where the magnificent spruce tree held court. White and colored lights blinked merrily. Classic red and blue glass balls crowded the branches along with numerous paper angels, stars, and snowflakes. Joey ignored all the SALE and CLEARANCE signs, booths for wrapping gifts, and photographer herding children over to see Santa Claus. Her only focus was that tree. She hurried past people paused to look at a sale rack until she found herself standing in front of it, her heart already heavy with all the wishes that would never get granted. But maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to fulfill one.
How many times had she dreamt she’d won the lottery? Fantasized about picking every wish off that big old tree and fulfilling every child’s dream? But her wish of winning the lottery had never come true, so how could she fill everyone else’s? She was just an average social worker hell-bent on making the world a better place one child at a time, but feeling as though she was failing miserably. The happy tunes of Jingle Bell Rock played in the background amidst her sudden grim thoughts. Damn, she hated getting maudlin around the holidays. Much better to concentrate on what she could give, and it came down to one lucky child she intended to help this holiday. At least the Wish Tree was able to help numerous children get what they really wanted for Christmas.
Closing her eyes, she spun around in a circle. This was her usual routine, and she didn’t care what others in the store might think about the ritual. Once her spin was complete, she took a step right; two steps left, and reached out in an adult game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, except it was more like Pluck the Tail off the Donkey.
Her fingers closed around one lucky star. She felt the paper between her fingers, savoring the moment before pulling it off the tree.
Joey tucked the star in her pocket and turned, ready to head out.
“Merry Christmas,” a deep voice startled her.
She paused for a moment, and then turned. The store Santa Claus stood before her. Typical white beard, red suit, and plump belly. Hmm, usually Charlie Connor played Santa but this definitely wasn’t him. This man’s eyes were different. They burned like dark blue flames, peering past his Santa type glasses. She took a step back, a bit uncomfortable, as she’d never seen eyes quite that color, or quite that illuminating. “Thank you. Merry Christmas.”
“Your wish has been granted.”
She opened her mouth, but her voice had dried up. Her hands were clammy and she was unable to break eye contact with the mysterious Santa. Why was she frozen in her spot? He was just a guy in a suit, taking pictures with kids. He should be sitting in his big chair, ho ho hoing with the children. She glanced over at the line, where the photographer stood patiently, waiting for the Santa to return. The children in line, on the other hand, didn’t seem as quiet or patient.
He stared at her, his eyes unwavering from her gaze. Hitching her scarf tighter around her neck, she forced a smile and a nod. “Umm, okay. Thanks.”
Joey forced herself to turn away, taking long strides to the main door. Her back tingled, as if his blue eyes were piercing through her skin. Her wish had been granted? The only wish she had was to help all the children be safe and happy. No one could make the wish come true, especially not a fake Santa.
She pushed the strange encounter out of her mind and finished the rest of her workday. Thank goodness, her site visit with Melanie Carlton went well. Her two foster boys were thriving in this environment. Sure, Melanie had little money, but sometimes the amount of love a person could provide was more important that the ability to buy unnecessary games and gadgets. This was a home packed with love, something that always warmed Joey’s heart, making her feel as though her efforts meant something.
A few hours later, after finishing her favorite wint
er meal of hot soup and grilled cheese, she curled up in front of her stone fireplace with a cup of hot green tea and the star she’d plucked from the tree. She admired the star, as she did each year, wondering what she’d find when she opened one. Slowly, she pulled back the paper hiding the child’s name.
Her heart skipped a beat when she read the name.
Owen Salt.
The six-year-old battling leukemia.
Swallowing hard, fighting the giant sob forming in her throat, she read the words printed with painstaking neatness in block letters.
A winter carnival for all the children of Starlight Bend. One with rides we can go on over and over. And candy and games. Thank you.
Joey stared at the paper for a long time. What was she going to do? She had no money to launch a winter carnival. Not the kind that she knew Owen and the other kids would want. The kind that made whatever daily struggles they and their families suffered disappear with the sound of laughter. It was only three weeks before Christmas, and planning for such an event took months. Even if she did know rich people, it would take time to either fundraise, or solicit that kind of money. She quickly did a mental accounting of her checking and savings and frowned. About all she could put together with her meager funds would be one piñata and maybe a three-legged race with some pillow shams.
Her memory flashed back to the day she learned what it felt like to want something so bad and know with ever fiber of your being, you’d never be able to get it.
Her foster mom had been kind to her, but she was more of a caretaker than a real mom. She provided a stable environment but Joey never felt the type of love she always dreamed of from a parent. There had never been enough money for basic supplies, let alone extras. Joey remembered seeing a carnival once. They’d been driving past one with all the flashing lights of rides. It had been like nothing Joey had ever seen. Sounds of people laughing and screaming in delight amidst the cheerful music beckoned her. In wonderment, she’d stared out the window and watched the Ferris wheel touch the clouds; the roller coaster hurl up and down wicked hills, and the dizzying flash of spinning teacups.
But the carousel held her mesmerized.
Such gorgeous colored horses, smoothly circling and lifting laughing children up and down in a ride that seemed to never get old. Oh, how she begged like she never had before to ride that carousel just once.
Her foster mother had admonished her for asking for something so frivolous. The rest of the car ride ended in painful silence. She’d gone to bed that night and cried for all the things she wished for but would never get, but mostly she cried for that one ride on the carousel. Her tears soon turned to guilt for craving a ride on anything when she knew she should feel lucky to have a home that was safe. She spent a restless night while the questions churned over and over in her mind. Why was it so wrong to want more? To crave such a simple pleasure? Did it make her a terrible person to feel so angry at the unfairness of the world? That others could enjoy the thrill of a carousel ride without guilt yet she never would.
Becoming a social worker had been an easy choice. After all, she was considered a success of the very system she was trying to make better. Starlight Bend had been the perfect town to settle in and make a new life for herself. The Montana town gave her new hope—with its rolling green mountains and big blue sky that stretched out in endless glory. With only two thousand residents, it was a tight knit community. You couldn’t walk into Gordon’s Grocery Store and not see someone you knew. She always had a friend to talk to at Stan’s Bar, and knew Becky would make eggs just like you wanted at the Lakeside Cafe. Joey had built a nice quiet life, in a small town, where maybe she could make a small difference to the other children caught in the system.
She sighed, swallowing that lump in her throat again. She wouldn’t be able to grant this wish for Owen. A momentary glimpse of hope filled her brain. Could she ask all the businesses in town to help fund the money? But where would she possibly hold it? She’d need some type of permit and zoning and a bunch of other stuff she could never accomplish in three weeks. If only she knew someone on private property… someone who could pull such a rabbit out of the hat. If only…
The thought struck her as hard as Thor’s hammer.
Noah Elliott.
She stared into the fire, her brain clicking away in an organized chaos that was part of her nature. His mansion on the mountain had plenty of acreage, in a perfect spot to hold a carnival. She could even picture it. The mountaintop would come alive with lights and music, magic, and it could be seen from miles away. She knew he was a multi millionaire with plenty of contacts. If anyone could pull it off, it would be someone like Noah Elliott, except for one teeny tiny little problem.
He wanted nothing to do with Starlight Bend.
Joey chewed at her thumbnail, trying to sort through how best to approach the man. Sure, he had a reputation for being a large jerk. Many blamed him for the current financial woes of the entire town but she was sure if she explained her situation, he’d help. People may have dubbed him the Grinch of Starlight Bend, but he’d once been the man who made Starlight Bend a thriving community. Part of that community still existed through the kind spirit of everyone who lived. She knew the history of the fire, and what had happened to Noah’s face. The lawsuit had changed everything, driving him away from the town he’d once loved to hide on his mountain. But it had been five long years. Maybe he was ready to finally come out of hiding. And maybe, considering the soul of this town, everyone could forgive, forget, and move on.
She sat in front of the fire for a long, long time, concocting a plan.
It was a good plan, but it all hinged on Noah Elliott.
Chapter Two
“Sir, there’s a woman out front to see you.”
Noah looked up from his computer and scowled. He hated being interrupted during work. “Why are you telling me this? Get rid of her.”
His longtime butler, assistant, and now friend, never changed his serene expression. It used to annoy Noah, now he welcomed it.
He’d hired Charles Longthistle shortly after his accident to make sure Noah had no need to leave the house. Trained in all aspects of running a household in discreet perfection, his skills were legendary and sought after. Noah never regretted hiring him, having to pay more than anyone else would have. Charles had a distinguished full head of white hair, mustache, and penchant for wearing expensive suits, though no one was around to view him. He brought a solid presence and capability that soothed Noah’s aching soul.
Most of the time, Noah felt as if he would have gone insane far earlier without the man’s company.
As if he heard Noah’s thought, Sammy gave a whimper. Noah dropped his hand to pet the lab’s head in a silent apology, and got a wet nose pressed against his thigh. Between Sammy and Charles, there was little reason to regret isolating himself from the outside world.
“I tried, sir. Many times. She seems to have camped out at the gates and I’m concerned about her safety. It’s brutally cold and a storm is brewing.”
Noah’s irritation spiked. Years of isolation would make even the most mild mannered man like a dormant volcano ready to explode without a moments notice. “Call the police. She’s probably some dried up reporter who’s desperate to reinvent a dead story.”
Charles hesitated. “I don’t think so. She said it involves a personal matter and she won’t leave until she gets to talk to you.”
Ah, hell. He didn’t need this right now. He was deep into a new deal and ready to make an offer. Distractions were rarely a problem, making his usual laser type focus integral to the close. Sammy cocked his massive head, his inky black fur gleaming in the low light. If only his dog was a threatening presence, he may be able to spook his unwanted visitor. Unfortunately, Sammy adored people and would probably welcome her with licking tongue and wagging tail.
Noah glanced out the office window. Easier than rolling his chair to check the surveillance cameras on the monitor behind him. Most people lef
t once they realized he wasn’t going to give them a show. He’d had that one group of young boys who only wanted to snap a photo of him to post on social media, but after three hours, they retreated. This shouldn’t take as long considering the cold. “Just a tactic to get through the front door,” he said. “Leave her alone, Charles. She’s not going to sit out there in the cold for long. We’ll wait her out.”
His butler nodded, but his gaze held doubt. “As you wish.”
Noah refused to second-guess himself, ever. It’s why he was so good at his job. His fingers flew across the keyboard, and the multiple monitors lit up with stock information and private email messages from contacts planted in the popular sporting goods chain well known for sponsoring the Olympics. A year of work was now moments from the glorious payoff. Besides making a ton of money, the satisfaction of the win fed his greedy soul that had once been nourished by giving to others.
Now he was all about taking for himself. It still saddened him those boys’ families sued. He would have done anything to help them, including paying for any medical bills. Instead, they turned on him for money. All of his past good gestures meant nothing, pushing him to change into the greedy man who now sat in this chair, on this mountain.
It was so much easier to think only of one self.
Hours passed in a blur as Noah carefully watched his deal unfold. He finally made the call. His contact picked up on the other end.
“End it,” Noah said into the Bluetooth.
“Done,” the voice replied.
And just like that, he was now the proud owner of a new conglomerate.
Adrenaline soared through his veins. He ripped off his headset, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Sammy. “We did it again, boy. My net worth just went up another half a billion dollars. Means I can keep you in gourmet bones for another decade. Fun, isn’t it?”
The lab yawned.
Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend Page 40
