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

by Carla Cassidy

“Oh.” Cooper rubbed a finger alongside his nose, obviously embarrassed he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.

  “I should have wrapped the rocks in Christmas paper.” When he remained silent, she asked, “What did you tell them?”

  “I said it was probably a warning from Santa to behave down the homestretch.” He glanced toward the stairs. “And I suggested they pick up their toys and not fight with each other to get back into Santa’s good graces.”

  Her eyes flicked to the mistletoe above Cooper’s head. Would he try to kiss her now that they were alone?

  “I guess Burt and I will see you on Saturday.”

  “The float has to be in the church lot by three and the parade starts at four.”

  “I’ll make sure we’re there.”

  Again her gaze strayed to the mistletoe. This time when they made eye contact, a tiny pulse of electricity zapped between them. Then Cooper put on his cowboy hat and held out his hand. Finley slid her fingers across his callused palm and he reeled her closer, until her hip bumped his thigh. She rolled onto her tiptoes and snuggled against him.

  He lowered his head. “All I’ve thought about since our sleigh ride is kissing you again.”

  “Me too,” she whispered. He nuzzled her mouth, nipping the corner. Then the tip of his tongue snuck inside. Without warning the kiss exploded with passion, and when he finally pulled away, he’d left no doubt in her mind that he wanted more from her than just a kiss.

  * * *

  “HOW WAS DINNER with Finley and the boys?” Burt asked as soon as Cooper stepped through the door.

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Yeah, why?” Cooper hung up his jacket and faced his grinning father. “What?”

  “When did you start wearing pink lipstick?”

  Cooper ran his tongue over his lip and tasted Finley’s gloss. “Mind your own business.”

  Burt followed him into the kitchen and parked his chair next to the table. “We gonna see the boys tomorrow?”

  “Not until Saturday at the parade.”

  “I worked on the train set while you were gone. All the pieces are painted.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded to the TV. “Have you heard anything more about the winter storm?”

  “Gonna be a doozy. High winds and a half foot of snow or more.”

  “When do they think it’ll hit?”

  “Now they’re saying Christmas Eve day.” Burt powered his scooter to the fridge and removed a Fudgsicle from the freezer. “We should invite Finley and the boys back here after the parade.”

  “What for?”

  “Flint and Tuff can help me decorate the tree if you get it out of the barn.”

  Cooper felt a pang of remorse that they hadn’t put up a tree this year. Denise had left him high and dry last Christmas, not his father, yet he was making Burt suffer because he hadn’t wanted any reminders of Denise’s betrayal. “I’ll bring the tree inside tomorrow.”

  “Good. ’Bout time we had a little holiday spirit in this house.”

  “Think I’ll call it a night.” Cooper disappeared into his room and thought about the kiss he’d shared with Finley. He had no doubt they’d be dynamite in bed, but what he felt for her was a lot more than sexual attraction. Tonight at the supper table with Finley and her sons, Cooper had known what it would feel like to have his own family—him, Finley, Tuff and Flint.

  A loud noise in the kitchen startled Cooper from his reverie. He took off his watch and tossed it onto the nightstand, where it slid across the surface and off the back side. When he reached between the wall and the table, his fingers brushed against a piece of paper. He pulled the note free and when he realized what he held in his hands, he collapsed onto the side of the bed.

  Dear Cooper,

  I’m sorry. I’ve known for a while that I can’t marry you, but with Christmas coming and all, I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s not that I don’t love you, because I do. I’m just not ready to take on the responsibility of helping you care for your father. I didn’t want him living with us. I just wanted it to be me and you. I’m sorry.

  Denise

  Cooper closed his eyes. Just when he’d begun to believe he was ready to move on with his life and take a chance finding happiness with Finley and the boys, the note reminded of his other responsibility—Burt.

  The past few days, he’d witnessed Finley’s crazy-busy life. It wouldn’t be fair of him to ask her to take on him and Burt. His father wasn’t getting any younger, and one of these days he’d no longer be able to drive.

  Finley was kind and possessed a gentle, caring spirit. If he asked her, she’d gladly embrace the challenge of managing her responsibilities and helping with Burt, too. But it would be selfish of him to take advantage of her that way. He shoved the letter into the nightstand drawer.

  Saturday would be the last time he did anything with Finley and the boys.

  * * *

  “HERE THEY COME, MOM!” Flint pointed to the far end of the church parking lot, where Cooper’s pickup towed the buckboard on a flatbed trailer. Burt’s van pulled a small horse trailer.

  “I see them.” She grabbed the boys’ hands and wove through the floats, the bells on their pointy elf slippers tinkling in the wind.

  “Would you look at that,” Burt said when the van door opened and the ramp lowered. “Two elves escaped from the North Pole.”

  “We’re not real elves,” Tuff said.

  “You’re not? Well, you sure look like real ones.”

  Flint tugged on the collar of his elf jacket. “Mom made these for our Christmas play at school.”

  Burt winked at Finley. “They look real professional.”

  “Thank you.” She hurried to Cooper’s side as he lowered the ramp on the trailer. “Can I help?”

  “No, thanks.” Cooper didn’t even glance at her.

  Maybe he’d had trouble getting the buckboard to town and was in a grumpy mood. “I can’t thank you enough for helping with the float.” He continued working as if he hadn’t heard her. Burt and the boys joined them and watched Cooper lower the buckboard to the pavement.

  “Do you know what place you are in the procession?” Burt asked.

  “No,” Finley said. “I don’t think they’re that organized.”

  The boys climbed into the wagon. “There’s hay in here,” Tuff said.

  “That’ll help the fawn keep his balance,” Burt said.

  “You’re taking the reins, Dad.” Cooper nodded to Burt.

  Finley’s heart plummeted to her stomach. “All three of us can fit on the bench seat if the boys are in the back with the deer.”

  Cooper shook his head. “I’ll sit this one out.”

  The mayor came over to check out the float. Her gaze swung between Finley and Cooper. “What’s this? Santa’s sleigh and elves?” Debbie asked.

  “It’s Santa’s buckboard and elves.” Finley forced a smile.

  “Where’s Rudolph?” Debbie asked.

  “Right there!” Tuff pointed to Cooper removing the fawn from the livestock trailer behind the van.

  “How cute.” Debbie laughed.

  Cooper set the deer in the wagon, then secured its harness to the sides.

  Debbie tugged Finley aside. “I heard you were dating Cooper Hollis. How are things going?”

  “We’re just friends.” She forced a smile.

  “That’s what they all say. I better check on the others.” Debbie walked off.

  “Will you keep an eye on the deer while I put Burt’s chair away?” Cooper asked after he lifted Burt into the driver’s seat.

  “Sure.” Finley was beginning to fear he regretted kissing her on Thursday. But why? Ten minutes later Cooper had the horses hitched to the front of the buc
kboard.

  “Are you positive you don’t want to ride with us?” Finley hoped Cooper would change his mind.

  “You can sit with us, Cooper,” Tuff said.

  “I’ll watch from the street.” He spoke to Burt. “Make sure to set the brake if you have to stop.”

  “It’s my legs that don’t work, not my brain. I know what to do,” Burt said, his attention focused on something behind Cooper. Finley glanced across the lot to see what had captured his interest. Viola Keller. The choir director had a knack for showing up when Burt was around.

  Cooper held out his hand to Finley, and she accepted his help climbing onto the seat. She squeezed his fingers, but he yanked his hand free and a lump formed in her throat. Something was very wrong, but she had no idea what to do to make it right.

  “He’s been grumpy since he woke up this morning,” Burt muttered when Cooper walked off to his truck.

  Burt snapped the reins and pulled the wagon into the line of floats heading out of the parking lot. They circled behind the church and came out on Main Street in front of the town square. Finley reminded the boys to wave as they drove past the crowd.

  “Hit that switch down there,” Burt said.

  She located the battery-operated contraption and turned it on. White lights blinked along the sides of the buckboard and around the wheels. The people lining the sidewalks clapped. When they passed by Viola, Burt tipped his hat to her and she blushed.

  Finley shoved her worries about Cooper to the back of her mind and did her best to enjoy the moment. When the buckboard reached the Victorian, she noticed Cooper’s somber expression, and tears stung her eyes. The boys called out to him and he waved, but the gesture was halfhearted and Finley feared he was waving goodbye to them.

  For good.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “THE WEATHERMEN MIGHT be right this time,” Cooper said when he entered the house late Thursday afternoon. His gaze swept past the Christmas tree that remained undecorated in the corner and landed on his father’s grumpy face.

  “The wind is picking up and I smell snow in the air.” Cooper hung his jacket and hat by the door. “It would be helpful if the forecasters would reach a consensus on when the storm will arrive.” Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and half the news stations claimed the snow would begin early morning, the others late afternoon.

  Burt remained quiet. The old man had been moody all week, and Cooper hadn’t wanted to get into an argument with him, so he hadn’t asked him what was wrong. Instead he’d spent long hours working outdoors.

  Four days had passed since he and Burt had gone into town for the parade. Saturday night when they’d returned to the ranch, Cooper had almost talked himself out of his decision to keep his distance from Finley and the boys. But in the end he’d stuck to his guns, believing it was best for everyone. Even though he exhausted himself with physical labor, each night he still fell into bed and dreamed of Finley.

  “You gonna bring the boys back here so they can work on the birdhouse for their mother?” Burt asked.

  “I’ve got too much to do to get ready for the storm.”

  “I’ll watch the kiddos while you’re outside.”

  “It’s not a big deal, Dad. I put the finishing touches on the project.” He’d drilled a few holes and attached a rope to hang the birdhouse from a tree branch. The boys had done all the painting and signed their names on the bottom. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “I thought you could deliver their gifts early in the morning before the weather gets bad.”

  “Why don’t you take them?”

  “I need to check on the herd before it snows.”

  “Something happen between you and Finley?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie to me, son.”

  “Lie about what?”

  “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. It wasn’t that long ago that I looked at your mother the same way.”

  Cooper had to end this conversation. He didn’t want his father to learn the reason he was distancing himself from Finley and the boys. No matter how much he wanted the three of them in his life, his first priority was taking care of his father. “Leave it alone, Dad.”

  “I won’t leave it alone.” Burt reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a piece of paper, then shook it at Cooper. “I’m the reason you stopped seeing Finley.”

  The blood drained from Cooper’s face. “What the hell were you doing snooping in my room?”

  “I’m your father. I can snoop if I want.”

  “Give me that.” Cooper reached for the letter, but Burt stuffed it into his pocket.

  “A while back I was looking for the photo of your mother I gave you right after she died and I found the letter,” Burt said.

  “How did it end up behind my nightstand?”

  “The scooter hit the edge of the table and the note slid off.”

  “That’s old news, Dad. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It sure in hell does matter if it concerns your future.”

  “Quit talking nonsense.”

  “Don’t you belittle me, son. I may be stuck in this chair, but I’m still your father and deserve your respect.”

  Properly chastised, Cooper held his tongue.

  “I’m the reason Denise cut out on you.” Burt held up a hand when Cooper opened his mouth to protest. “When I ran into Finley and the boys one afternoon at the café, I decided I needed to make things right.”

  “So you started shoplifting from Finley’s store?”

  “It got you two together, didn’t it?”

  “Look, Dad. I appreciate your good intentions, but I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine. And I’ll always be here for you.”

  “I know. That’s why I took matters into my own hands.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I met with them folks out there at the Shady Acres Retirement Estates.”

  “You did what?”

  “Got an apartment for myself. I won’t be a burden to you no more.”

  Horrified that his father believed he was a responsibility Cooper didn’t want, he said, “You’re not going anywhere.” Had Cooper given his father the impression that he didn’t want to take care of him?

  “You’re a good son. You’ve stood by me longer than most kids would take care of their parents.”

  “And I’ll be right by your side until the end.”

  Burt shook his head. “I may be stuck in this damned chair, but that doesn’t make me less of a father. And since you haven’t experienced being a father, you couldn’t know that what fulfills a man most is his children’s happiness.” Burt’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want to stand in your way if you’ve got a chance with Finley and the boys. I had a great life with your mother, God rest her soul. That kind of love comes along once in a lifetime. I didn’t raise a fool for a son.” He placed his fist against his chest. “If Finley’s captured your heart, then go after her.”

  Cooper shoved his fingers through his hair. “You’ve been an important part of my life, Dad.”

  “And I’ll still be a part of your life—just not every single day like we’ve been living these past years.”

  Cooper couldn’t imagine waking up in the house and not being the one to help his father out of bed and into his chair. Burt loved this ranch and had built it into a successful business. No way in hell should he have to sit in a retirement home and stare at four walls when he had acres of outdoors and deer on his own property to gaze at.

  “Son, I don’t want you spending the rest of your years caring for me. By the time something happens to me and you’re on your own, you’ll have to use those little blue pills they advertise on TV in order to have any fun in the bedroom.”

  Cooper’s chest ached with love
for his father. Humbled by the lengths he was willing to go in order for his son to be happy, he realized that the least he could do was have the courage to reach for the future Burt wished for him. But there was one thing he knew for certain—he and Burt were a package deal. If Finley couldn’t accept that, then she wasn’t the woman he thought she was.

  Knowing his father wouldn’t drop the subject until he won, Cooper said, “I’ll give it some thought, Dad.”

  If things worked out the way he hoped, Burt wouldn’t have to move anywhere.

  * * *

  CHRISTMAS EVE DAY started out with sunshine, but by noon the clouds had rolled in and a blustery wind brought snow flurries. Cooper had one more feeding station to fill before showering. He’d told his father that they’d deliver the gifts to Finley and the boys this afternoon. And while Burt entertained the twins, Cooper intended to sneak downstairs with Finley, kiss her beneath the mistletoe, then ask her to marry him.

  When he arrived at the feeder, the herd was huddled together to keep warm. The wind buffeted Cooper’s coat when he got out of the truck, and he tossed his hat onto the seat rather than risk it blowing off his head. The temperature was dropping and snowflakes were sticking to the ground.

  After filling the feeder, he checked on the fawns, glad to see they stayed close to their mothers. When the female deer finished eating, they’d lead the herd into the trees and take shelter until the storm passed. He hopped into his truck, turned up the heat, then drove along a back road to the house. Before he reached the driveway, the sky unzipped and thick snowflakes poured down like rain.

  He parked next to the barn, then moved Burt’s van into the garage so he wouldn’t have to clean off the windshield when they drove into town later. Inside the house, he was greeted by his father’s grim expression. “What’s the matter?”

  “The weather-alert radio sounded. They’re warning everyone to stay off the roads.”

  “It’s snowing hard but—”

  “They’re calling for a foot of snow in town. And there’s only one plow for the whole county.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll make it into Mistletoe.” And maybe if they got lucky, they’d become stranded at Finley’s for the night. “I’ll grab a quick shower. Then we’ll take off.”