A Mistletoe Christmas: Santa's Mistletoe MistakeA Merry Little WeddingMistletoe Magic

by Carla Cassidy

  “She’s a cute one,” he said.

  Melody gazed up at him, her blue eyes shining brightly. “She’s much cuter when her lower lip isn’t stuck out in a pout.”

  “She’s fine,” he replied easily as they moved toward the front door of the three-story Victorian home with its shop on the lower level. “Maybe I can find a little magic potion in here that will make little girls like me just a bit.”

  He opened the door and the three of them entered the shop, which held herbs and crystals and incense and oils. Finley McCarthy greeted them, her long blond hair held back with a beaded headband and half a dozen bracelets jangling on her wrists.

  As she took Libby and Melody to show them all the wares she had to offer, he trailed behind them, admiring the shiny length of Melody’s hair. It fell in loose waves below her shoulders, making him wonder what those strands might feel like wrapped around his fingers.

  The thought nearly caused him to stumble, and at the same time Libby turned around to give him another wary glance. He had a feeling if he intended to spend any time with Melody he would somehow have to find a way to win over the petite miniature next to her.

  He frowned again, trying to recall exactly when he had decided he wanted to spend more time with his lovely neighbor. He watched as she and Libby smelled some of the oils and laughed as both of them turned up their noses at one particular scent.

  They left the store with the magic potion for Libby. “It’s almost noon. Do you ladies have plans for lunch?” he asked.

  “Mom and I are going home for lunch,” Libby said firmly. “We’re going to eat stuff that cowboys don’t like.”

  “Well, then, I guess that leaves me out,” he said smoothly before Melody could reprimand Libby again for bad manners. “I have heard that tonight there’s going to be some caroling going on at the gazebo. I was thinking it might be fun to hitch a couple of horses to my wagon and fill it full of hay and take a ride back into town for the evening fun.”

  Libby’s eyes widened with more than a hint of interest. “But I doubt you two would be interested in joining me,” he added.

  “We could be interested,” Libby said. “We like horses and hayrides, don’t we, Mom? And maybe we could stop and pick up Megan.” She looked up at Jake. “She lives on Mistletoe Lane and she’s my best friend in the whole wide world.”

  Jake rocked back on his heels. “It wouldn’t seem right to have a hayride without a best friend included.”

  Libby’s eyes narrowed. “Just because I’d like to go ride in your wagon and go on a hayride doesn’t mean I like you, Cowboy Jake.”

  “Libby!” Melody’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment to match the color of her coat.

  Jake grinned. “That’s okay. I think maybe we can have some fun even if you don’t like me. Why don’t I plan on picking up the two of you about seven?”

  “I can’t imagine why you would want to be so nice to a little girl who shows such bad behavior,” Melody replied. “But I have to admit the idea of a wagon ride into town to listen to people caroling sounds like fun. We’ll be ready, and maybe as we eat our girl-food lunch, we’ll talk about a little attitude adjustment.” She released a sigh that Jake found charming.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you two at seven, and I’m sure we’re going to have a fine time.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Melody replied.

  As he walked away from the two females, his heart beat faster than it had in a very long time.

  Something about Melody stirred a spark of life inside him that he hadn’t even known still existed before sitting down across from her at the café the day before.

  He couldn’t let his heart be vulnerable ever again, but surely there was no harm in just enjoying some time with Melody and her daughter.

  If nothing else, maybe their company would help him get through this holiday, which for the past five years had meant nothing more to him than loss and heartache.

  He thought about all the things he needed to take care of in order to get the old wagon out and appropriately bedecked for the night’s festivities and hurried toward his truck, a foreign excitement flooding his veins as he thought of the night to come.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A DOZEN TIMES throughout the afternoon, Jake thought about calling Melody to cancel the wagon ride. The first thought came when he viewed the wagon, which had been stored in a shed for the past five years.

  It had been Stacy’s idea to buy the wagon with the bench seat and slatted sides specifically to chauffeur friends and neighbors into town for the Christmas festivities. He hadn’t realized that the sight of it again would bring a pang as he remembered his late wife.

  He hitched up two of his strongest horses and pulled the wagon from the shed, and then spent the next two hours cleaning away the dust and cobwebs that clung to it.

  He unhooked the horses to let them graze on some hay, as it was far too early to have them ready for the evening ride, then he grabbed a machete and headed for a large stand of evergreens that stood on his property.

  Instantly he was surrounded by the sweet scent of pine. It took him two trips to get enough boughs to tie along the sides of the wagon.

  Again, he thought of calling Melody and canceling the whole night when he pulled down from the shed a box of huge bright red bows that Stacy had made specifically to decorate the wagon.

  He’d loved going to all this work for her, and now he was doing it for a woman he hardly knew and a little girl who had taken an instant dislike to him. Still, he tied the bows onto the wagon and didn’t make a call to cancel.

  In the box with the bows, he found several brand-new packages of battery-operated red-and-white lights, and he knew that Stacy had bought them for the wagon just before her death.

  Emotion rose in his throat while he strung the lights and tested each string, vaguely surprised that after all this time they worked.

  It was nearly five o’clock by the time he had finished the transformation from an old dusty wagon to a vehicle Santa would be proud of. All he had left to do was lay down fresh hay, put bows on the horses’ ears and strap a band of jingle bells across their backs.

  He ate a dinner of leftover chili, and thoughts of Stacy filled his head. She’d been a Christmas freak, ready to put up a tree by Thanksgiving, and decorating the house with spinning Santas and dancing reindeer and all the tinsel and baubles the furniture would hold. She’d been so filled with life, and when she died, she’d stolen the very life out of him.

  He’d gone through all the stages of grief, denial and anger, isolation and depression, but he realized now that at some point over the past year he’d moved quietly into tenuous acceptance.

  He would always mourn what he’d lost, but he was also tired of being angry and depressed, and something about Melody Martin had pulled him out of his shell of isolation.

  After dinner he showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue flannel shirt, and as an afterthought sprayed on a bit of cologne.

  He grabbed his suede coat, knowing the night would be cold, and headed back outside to finish up the final touches to the wagon and the horses.

  * * *

  NERVES JANGLED THROUGH his veins as the time to leave arrived. Crazy, he told himself. It was crazy to be nervous about a simple jaunt down Main Street. It was even crazier to believe that his nerves had to do with Melody sharing the bench seat with him.

  At the last minute he grabbed a thick red blanket and tossed it on the bench next to him. He and Melody would get the brunt of the cold as they traveled. Libby would be warmed by the sweet, scented hay that filled the wagon.

  The sound of the jingle bells filled the air with a joyous melody, and the lights twinkled along the sides of the wagon as night fell fast. He pulled up in front of Melody’s house at precisely seven o’clock.

&
nbsp; It was as if she and her daughter had been standing at the door waiting for him. They burst out of the house, and as he saw Libby’s face light up with such excitement, such joy, he knew at that moment why he’d gone to all the trouble.

  “Oh, Mom, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed.

  “It is,” Melody agreed. Her gaze met Jake’s, and he wanted to fall into the warmth that radiated from those beautiful blue eyes. “You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble.”

  “What are the horses named?” Libby asked. She jumped up and down, looking cute in a red coat that matched her mother’s.

  “Why, Dasher and Dancer, of course,” he replied. “I thought your mother might ride up here next to me, and as you can see, the wagon bed has bales of hay for seats and a nice soft bedding of hay to help keep you warm.”

  Libby walked to the back of the wagon and looked inside. “Perfect,” she announced. “Even though I don’t like you much, could you help me up?” she asked him.

  He tilted his cowboy hat back just a bit to eye her. “I suppose I could if I heard the magic word.”

  “Please,” Libby replied.

  She was as light as a feather and as wiggly as a worm as he lifted her into his arms and placed her in the bed of the wagon. She went to the bale of hay directly behind the bench seat.

  “I only have one rule,” he said once she was settled. “While we’re going into town, you have to stay sitting down. Once we get to town and slow down, then you can stand up and hang on to the top of the sides.”

  “All my friends can stand up when we are in town?” she asked.

  “All of your friends? I thought we were only picking up one.”

  Libby pulled her coat closer around her and eyed him boldly. “I called some of my other friends this afternoon. Since you want me to like you, I thought you wouldn’t mind.” She blinked long dark lashes innocently.

  She was a pip, that one, he thought as he helped Melody up to the bench and then joined her and took the reins. “I should have told you about the other friends earlier, but I didn’t know she’d made the calls until ten minutes before you arrived,” Melody said.

  “It’s all right. Maybe this will get me on her good side,” he replied with a smile.

  “I asked her this afternoon why she didn’t like you, but she refused to give me an answer.”

  “Maybe she’ll warm up to me just a little bit after tonight.” With the jingle of bells and the lights on the wagon casting out in the darkness, and the scent of Melody’s perfume mingling with the fresh smell of pine, a sense of peace stole over him.

  “So tell me what you two window-shoppers bought today,” he asked.

  As she talked about what stores they’d gone in and what they’d bought, he realized he would gladly listen to her if she were reading a cookbook out loud. Her voice held a joy that he had a feeling was her natural state of mind.

  Thankfully he wasn’t haunted by visions of Stacy at his side. His attention was divided between the road and Melody. Her cheeks had turned pink with the wind and her hair quickly became a windblown mass of silky strands.

  When they went over a bump in the road, Melody’s laughter mingled with Libby’s, and Jake felt a sense of connection, a wave of utter happiness he hadn’t felt for a very long time. It was delightful, and it was equally dangerous.

  He didn’t mind spending some time with his beautiful neighbor and her daughter, but he would never, ever give his heart away again. Been there, done that, and the pain of loss had left him forever incapable of love.

  * * *

  MELODY SNUGGLED BENEATH the red blanket Jake had provided and listened to the magical sound of childish laughter coming from the bed of the wagon.

  It seemed that Libby had invited half the town’s children to join them in their ride. She marveled at Jake’s patience as he stopped by house after house and lifted little bodies into the back.

  Seth had been a good man, a good husband, but patience had never been one of his strong suits. She’d often wished he’d display a little more patience to the little girl who had been so enamored of her daddy.

  By the time they finally headed down Main Street toward the center square, the back of the wagon was filled with chattering, laughing children.

  “Let’s make a real entrance,” he yelled back to the kids. “How about we all start singing ‘Jingle Bells’?” He started them off, his baritone voice sending an unexpected shiver of pleasure up Melody’s spine.

  She could smell his cologne, a spicy scent that made her want to find the source. Had he splashed it on his shirt, or was it in the hollow of his throat where she could nuzzle her nose?

  Something about Jake Hanson made her feel like a giddy teenager with a crush. Conversation had become impossible between them the moment the children had begun to pile up.

  Still, she was happy just sitting next to him, watching the play of emotions on his handsome face. Main Street in Mistletoe was filled with shoppers and people lingering around the beautiful gazebo in the center of the square.

  A group of people had begun singing carols, their voices adding to what was already for her a festive night. She wondered how Jake would react if she snuggled closer to him.

  The thought flew out of her mind as quickly as it had come. Not only would Jake probably think her forward and inappropriate, Libby would have a hissy fit.

  He brought the wagon to a halt in a parking space in front of the center square. “Sit tight,” he said to Melody, and then he got down and went to the back of the wagon to unload the children. “There are ten of you here, and when the wagon gets ready to leave again, there’d better be ten of you back here. You’re only allowed to go directly to the gazebo. Ms. Melody and I will be there in a few minutes.”

  He climbed back on the seat as the children all ran toward the gazebo. “We can see them all from here, and I thought if we waited just a bit we’d have a chance to talk.”

  “I’d like that,” she replied. “For a man who hates Christmas, you sure pulled out all the stops tonight.”

  “The look on Libby’s face was worth it. Besides, Christmas is for kids. Adults don’t have to like it, we just have to endure it.”

  “You’re wrong, Jake. Christmas is magic, and it’s magic for everyone. It’s the one time of year people come together and sing about peace on earth, and even the most curmudgeonly of human beings find something to be joyful about.”

  “Are you calling me a curmudgeon?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

  “If the boot fits...” She laughed as he looked outraged.

  “Maybe it has fit over the past couple of years,” he finally said thoughtfully.

  “I heard about your wife. Trust me, I understand the pain.” She touched his gloved hand with her own, wishing she could feel the warmth of his skin. “I was lucky. I had Libby. I had to get past Seth’s death so I could be the mother she needed.” She pulled her hand from his and looked toward the gazebo. “Maybe we should get out and make our way to the kids,” she said, not wanting the conversation to get too deep. It wasn’t the time or the place.

  “When it comes time to leave it’s going to be like herding cattle,” he said as he got down and came around to her side of the wagon to help her. He surprised her by grabbing her around the waist and sliding her to the ground.

  For a brief moment he held on to her. Despite all their clothing, warmth filtered through her at his nearness. She fought the impulse to lean into him, to have his arms surround her as she closed her eyes and listened to the childish voices singing, “Santa Claus is Coming to Mistletoe.”

  Instead she stepped back from him, both appalled and intrigued that the man who had just been a neighbor had squeezed a little bit into her heart.

  She grabbed his hand and tugged him to run with her. He groaned aloud, but when she caug
ht a glimpse of his face in the twinkling lights that decorated the gazebo, there was a relaxed happiness that only made him more handsome.

  The fact that the loner, the self-proclaimed Christmas Grinch smiled as he tightened his grip on her hand assured her that Mistletoe magic was at work...at least for tonight.

  It was an evening of laughter and song and visiting with friends. While the kids expended their energy running races around the gazebo and singing, Melody and Jake found an empty bench nearby.

  “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said. He returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of Mistletoe Toddy.

  “If you aren’t careful, somebody might think you’re actually enjoying all this,” she said after she thanked him for the drink. She took off her gloves to hold the warm foam cup and noticed that he was also gloveless.

  “Actually, I think it’s the company I’m keeping that I’m enjoying, not so much the holiday or the silly mistletoe madness.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I’m enjoying the company, too,” she replied.

  For the next hour they drank their toddies and talked about favorite movies, types of music they enjoyed and all the questions that people asked when getting to know each other better.

  It felt like a first date, although Melody reminded herself it was nothing of the sort. It wasn’t a date at all. It was simply neighbors getting better acquainted.

  At nine o’clock they began to round up the children for the trip home. The parents had been promised that their sons and daughters would be delivered back home safely before ten.

  The children were quieter when they piled back into the wagon, but their faces glowed with a tired happiness. By the time they pulled up in front of Melody’s house, Libby was curled up on a hay bale and sound asleep.

  “I’ll get her,” Jake offered. He climbed into the bed of the wagon and picked up the sleeping child, who immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, but didn’t appear to awaken.

  Melody hurried to unlock her front door and guided Jake through the living room and down the hallway to the purple explosion that was Libby’s bedroom.