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

by Carla Cassidy

  “I want to buy my niece and nephew a bottle of that Mistletoe Magick the kids in town are talking about,” Maybelline said. “My sister thinks it’s a waste of money, but Christmas is all about magic, right?”

  “That’s right.” Finley signed her credit-card slip and gave both women a generous tip before leaving. She wondered what Cooper would think when he saw her. Maybe he’d like the style so much he’d kiss her again.

  Cooper’s kiss was definitely one of the most magical things that had happened to Finley this holiday season.

  * * *

  “HOW MANY DEER do you got?” Tuff asked as he and his brother trailed Cooper into the barn.

  “About two hundred.” Burt had fetched the boys from town so Cooper had time to work on the train.

  “That’s a lot of deer to feed,” Tuff said.

  Now that Cooper had been with the twins a few times, he could tell them apart. When Tuff smiled, his eyes sparkled with mischief and he talked a mile a minute. Flint was shy and didn’t ask as many questions, but he listened carefully to what people said.

  “I thought we’d work on the birdhouse for your mom before we fill the deer feeders.” Cooper paused inside the storeroom and groped for the light switch.

  “How come Burt’s not gonna help us?” Tuff asked.

  “He didn’t sleep well last night. He’ll feel better after he takes a nap.” He hoped the boys wouldn’t put up a stink about Burt staying in the house.

  “We hate naps.” Tuff poked his brother’s shoulder. “Right?”

  “Our mom sends us to our room when we get into trouble but we never fall asleep,” Flint said.

  Cooper placed several pieces of wood on the workbench. “Do you guys know what kind of house you want to make?”

  They shook their heads.

  “We could build a regular birdhouse or we could build something special.”

  Tuff climbed onto the stool next to the bench and surveyed the pieces of wood. “Something special.”

  Cooper opened the book he’d checked out from the library yesterday. “What do you think of this one?”

  Flint joined his brother on the stool and the boys peered at the drawing. “It’s a bird motel,” Cooper said. “It has eight nesting rooms.”

  “What’s a nesting room?” Flint asked.

  “A place where the female bird lays her eggs.” The boys stared at Cooper with blank looks on their faces. “Or we could build a smaller one like this.” He flipped the page.

  “I like the motel,” Tuff said.

  “Me, too.” Flint hopped off the stool and peered inside an empty stall. “What happened to the baby deer?”

  “They’re with their mother in the pen behind the barn.” Cooper figured the fawns would be a distraction and had moved them outside. The kids seemed preoccupied. “What’s wrong?”

  The brothers exchanged guilty looks. Then Tuff dug into his pocket and removed a black rock. “Santa left an early present in our stockings.”

  Cooper examined the stone. “Were you guys supposed to look in your stockings before Christmas?”

  “No,” they said. Then Flint spoke. “Is it a chunk of coal?”

  Before Cooper had a chance to respond, Tuff asked, “Does that mean we’re on Santa’s naughty list and we’re not gonna get any toys?”

  Cooper was baffled. Why would Finley put rocks in their stockings? Had she wanted to teach them a lesson? As a kid, he’d been a handful, but his parents had never threatened to put coal in his stocking. Maybe the stress of the holidays was taking a toll on Finley.

  “Are you two being good?”

  The twins nodded.

  “Are you putting your toys away and picking up after yourselves?”

  They shook their heads.

  “What about making your beds and brushing your teeth?” he asked.

  “No,” they mumbled.

  “I think Santa’s giving you a warning, and there’s still time to get back on his good list.”

  “How?” Flint asked.

  “From now on pick up your toys and try not to make a mess in the house. And you probably shouldn’t fight with each other.”

  “And we can put away our video games,” Flint said.

  Tuff nodded. “And hang up our coats.”

  “And if we make our mom a birdhouse, Santa will be happy, right?” Flint asked.

  “Right.” Cooper would have hoped the boys wanted to make a gift for their mother because they loved her and not because they thought it would help them get back into Santa’s good graces. But hey, they were five-year-olds.

  “Let’s get started.” Cooper handed each boy a block of wood and a piece of sandpaper, then showed them how to smooth the edges. Once all the pieces were sanded, he said, “It’s time to cut out the holes.”

  “Can I do it?” Tuff asked.

  Cooper expected the boys would want to operate the table saw, but he hesitated, concerned for their safety.

  “We never get to do stuff like this, ’cause we only got a mom,” Flint said. “Toby’s dad lets him help mow the yard on the tractor.”

  “And Michael’s dad let him put his handprint on the porch step before the cement dried.”

  Feeling sorry for the kids, Cooper said, “I’ll let you help with the power tools as long as you don’t goof around.” He retrieved an extra pair of protective goggles and handed them to Flint. “You’re up first.” Once he aligned the wood with the blade, he covered Flint’s hands with his own. “I’m going to help guide the wood through the saw. Don’t push—just let me move it, okay?” Flint nodded and Cooper turned on the saw. Carefully he moved the piece through the twists and turns needed to create the hole, then shut off the power.

  “That was cool.” Flint jumped off the stool and Tuff took his place.

  “I won’t push the wood.” Tuff put on the goggles. Then Cooper placed his hands over his and repeated the process. He alternated between the boys until eight holes were cut out.

  “Since you two listened and followed directions, I’ll let you use the nail gun.”

  “What’s a nail gun?” Tuff asked.

  “This gadget right here.” Before Cooper plugged it in, he showed the boys how the nails were loaded and where they shot out of the gun. “You never, ever point this at anyone. Understood?”

  The twins nodded. “Tuff gets to go first this time.” Cooper lined up the pieces of wood and held them together with one hand, then helped Tuff position the nail gun. “Put your finger over mine and when I count to three, squeeze.” Cooper counted, “One...two...three.” A nail shot out of the gun and pierced the wood close to the area he’d targeted. “Good job.”

  “My turn.” Flint and Tuff exchanged places and the process went on for five minutes until the walls were nailed together.

  “It needs a roof,” Cooper said.

  “Those are small holes. How are the birds gonna fit?” Flint asked.

  “It’s a finch motel.”

  “What’s a finch?” Tuff asked.

  “A really small bird.” Cooper flipped through the pages of the book. “That’s a finch.”

  “It’s tiny,” Flint said.

  “The birdhouse will protect them from predator birds.”

  “What’s a predator bird?” Tuff asked.

  “Falcons and hawks. They eat the smaller birds.”

  “What color are we gonna paint the house?” Flint asked.

  “What’s your mom’s favorite color?”

  “Yellow,” Tuff answered.

  “Mom says yellow is the color of sunshine and happiness,” Flint said.

  Cooper had never considered the meaning of colors, but after meeting Finley, he believed happiness and warmth was the color of her hair. “How about a pale ye
llow with blue trim?”

  “Okay.”

  Making sure the saw and nail gun were unplugged, Cooper said, “We’ll slap on the first coat of paint, then feed the deer while it dries.” The boys tagged along to the storage room.

  “Mr. Cooper?”

  “Yes, Flint?”

  “I wish you were my dad.”

  Cooper froze, the air in his lungs expanding until his chest threatened to burst.

  “Yeah, you let us use your tools and you have reindeer.” Tuff kicked the toe of his shoe against the door. “Mom says our dad collects rocks. That’s dumb.”

  “No,” Flint said. “He studies rocks.”

  “So?” Tuff glared at his brother. “It’s stupid.”

  “We better get to work. The deer will be hungry soon.” Cooper grabbed the cans of paint, then divided the colors between the boys and handed them the shirts they’d worn when they’d helped paint the buckboard. He spread newspaper over the workbench and placed the birdhouse between them. “Flint, you start with the front and, Tuff, you paint the back.”

  After he was sure the boys could handle the task, he said, “I’ll be right back.” Once he escaped the barn, he leaned against the side of the structure and rubbed his brow.

  The twins wanted him to be their father.

  All this time, he’d worried that if he and Finley carried on with each other, one of them would get hurt—why hadn’t he considered that the boys might get hurt, too?

  Not wanting to bruise the kids’ feelings was all the motivation he needed to stop seeing Finley. If he was smart, he’d end things with her tonight when he took her sons home. But he couldn’t say goodbye just yet—not during the holidays. For the first time since Denise had broken off her engagement to him and left town, Cooper admitted that Finley and the boys were helping him recapture the joy of the season.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FINLEY WATCHED COOPER’S truck turn into the driveway, her heart beating a little faster. She flipped the sign in the window and shut off the lights. When she entered the kitchen at the back of the house, the door crashed opened and the boys began talking at once.

  “Hold on.” She laughed, giving them each a hug. “One at a time.”

  “There’s this big—” Tuff spread his arms wide “—daddy deer with antlers.”

  Flint patted his mother’s hip. “Burt said he’s the boss of all the deer.”

  Finley glanced up and smiled at Cooper, who stood inside the door, hat in hand. How was it that he grew more and more handsome each time she saw him? Today he wore a gold flannel shirt that made his blue eyes appear brighter. “It sounds like they had a great time at the ranch.” She peered past Cooper’s shoulder. “Did Burt come with you?”

  “He’s at home.” Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “You cut your hair.”

  “I needed a change.”

  “I like it.” The husky note in his voice sent a shiver down Finley’s back.

  She ran her hand over her bob. “Thanks. I made a chicken-enchilada casserole. Will you stay for dinner?” She guided the boys to the stairs. “Wash your hands before we eat.”

  Once her sons disappeared upstairs, Finley said, “My great idea to hold an after-Christmas sale before Christmas was a bust.” She shouldn’t complain, because she’d made over five hundred dollars, but it was nowhere near the two thousand she’d hoped to bring in. Twice during the day there had been no one in the store for almost an hour, so she’d used the time to prepare the casserole.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She didn’t care to talk about her flagging sales. “Will you stay? A hot meal is the least I can do to thank you for taking the boys off my hands.”

  Cooper’s gaze warmed as he stared at her body. “I’d like that.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll text Burt that I won’t be home right away.”

  Relieved he’d said yes, she waited for him to finish the text, then led the way upstairs. Once they reached the landing, she held out her arm. “I’ll take your jacket.” She laid it across the back of the couch.

  “This is nice up here,” he said.

  “It’s small, but the boys and I like it.” She caught a whiff of his cologne and shivered.

  “Cooper, come play ‘Super Mario’ with us!” Tuff shouted from his bedroom.

  “I’ll rescue you in ten minutes,” she said.

  Cooper’s gaze shifted to the mistletoe hanging in the doorway above his head. She’d hung bunches throughout the apartment, and the boys had made a game out of trying to dodge her hugs and kisses. When Cooper’s attention zeroed in on her face, she stopped breathing.

  His mouth inched closer....

  “C’mon, Cooper! Watch what I can make Mario do!”

  Heart racing, Finley hurried into the kitchen and removed the casserole from the oven, then shoved a baking sheet of the boys’ favorite crescent rolls inside before pouring glasses of water and milk. After adding salsa and sour cream to small serving bowls, she announced, “Dinner’s ready.”

  She hurried into the bathroom and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her carefully styled bob was a mess from running her fingers through the strands all day, and she spotted a cider stain on her white blouse where Mrs. Gunderson had bumped into her while holding a glass. She didn’t look like any man’s dream date.

  Back in the kitchen, she pulled the rolls from the oven, slid them into a bread basket, then grabbed the butter dish and delivered them to the table. “I’m going to start without you guys,” she called out.

  A second later the trio appeared. Cooper waited for Finley and the boys to take their seats before he sat across from her.

  “Let Cooper say grace, Mom,” Flint said.

  A red stain spread across Cooper’s cheeks, and she came to his rescue. “Mr. Cooper is our guest. Why don’t you do the honors tonight?”

  “Okay.” Flint set his elbows on the table and folded his hands beneath his chin. Finley nudged Tuff, and he copied his brother. Then she clasped her hands in her lap and bowed her head.

  “Dear God,” Flint said. “Thanks for this food even though I don’t like Mom’s enchiladas.”

  Cooper made a sound in his throat but Finley was too chicken to open her eyes and look at him.

  “And thank You for my mom and my brother and Cooper and Burt. And thank You for the bird— Ouch!”

  Finley glanced between the boys.

  “He kicked me,” Flint said.

  “Because you’re stupid.”

  “Don’t speak to your brother like that, young man.”

  Tuff sent a pleading gaze toward Cooper. “He almost blew our surprise.”

  “What surprise?” She noted Flint’s worried expression.

  “Maybe I should say grace,” Cooper said. Everyone quieted. “Thank You for the world so sweet. Thank You for the food we eat. Thank You for the birds that sing. Thank You, God, for everything. Amen.” The boys and Finley added their amens.

  “I never heard that one before,” Tuff said.

  “My mother taught me that blessing.” Cooper passed the rolls to Flint, who grabbed two.

  “How come we didn’t see your mom at the ranch?” Tuff asked.

  “My mother died a long time ago.”

  Good grief. Finley hadn’t invited Cooper to supper so he could sit through an inquisition.

  “That’s okay,” Flint said. “We’ll share our mom with you.” Flint looked at Finley. “Right, Mom?”

  Finley forced a smile. “Sure.”

  Flint nudged Cooper’s arm. “You’ll like our mom.”

  Cooper stared at Finley and smiled devilishly. “I already do.”

  Thank goodness the rest of the meal passed without any embarrassing discussions. Afterward, Finley insisted Cooper relax with
the boys while she stowed the leftovers and cleaned the kitchen. Truth be told, she needed time to gather her composure. The more she got to know Cooper, the more she liked him.

  Okay, so her feelings had grown beyond like. She admired him. Loved how kind and patient he was with the twins. How thoughtful he was toward her. How he looked after Burt. His former fiancée had been a fool to give him up. As Finley placed the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, she realized that being with Cooper made her forget her troubles. No matter what happened with the store, she’d survive, and best of all, Cooper would still be here.

  After she cleaned the kitchen, she joined the guys in the living room. “It’s bath time.” Even though it was Christmas break, she tried to keep the boys on a schedule because it’d be easier to get back into the swing of things when school began.

  “I better get going.” Cooper reached for his jacket.

  As much as Finley would have loved for him to spend the evening with her, she had to organize the store after the boys went to bed.

  “You guys be good for your mother,” Cooper said.

  Flint and Tuff glanced up from their video game and both spoke at once. “Bye.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door.” Finley led the way downstairs. They avoided eye contact while Cooper shrugged into his coat.

  “Can I ask you something?” he said, twirling his Stetson in his hand.

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you put a rock in the boys’ stockings?”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think they’d peek.”

  “I’m guessing they’re a handful at times, but they’re good kids and they shouldn’t be worried that Santa might not bring them any toys this Christmas.”

  Finley’s heart melted at the protective note in his voice. “Let me guess. They think they’ve been put on Santa’s naughty list.”

  Cooper nodded. “They assumed the rock was a chunk of coal.”

  “Those aren’t ordinary rocks,” she said. “They’re from a volcano in Iceland where their father is doing research. He sent them a month ago and wanted me to save them for Christmas.”