by Lizzie Lane
“I’m sorry. Absolutely. I’ll grill you when you get home. Drive safe and keep me posted.”
“I will. Promise.”
“Merry Christmas, hon.”
“You too,” Sam echoed, without feeling any of her usual Christmas spirit.
As she disconnected the call and dropped her phone back into her purse, she became aware of her surroundings. Holiday music piped through the speakers above her head. Garland and twinkling lights decorated the rental car counter nearby where Jase was nodding and signing paperwork handed to him by a girl in a Santa hat. The holidays were in full swing—her favorite season was in full effect—but that place inside her chest that had always swollen with holiday spirit was just as inactive as it had been in Tahiti.
As it had been since last Christmas Eve when her world had fallen in on her.
She did some quick math, counting the days and correcting for the International Date Line.
December twentieth. Only five days until Christmas.
She’d thought her lack of Christmas spirit in Tahiti had to do with the tropical weather and umbrella drinks, but now that she was surrounded by snow and garland and carols she had to wonder if it was her. Was her Christmas spirit broken?
Jase appeared at her side, holding up a ring of car keys triumphantly. “You ready?”
Sam looked from the cascade of snow falling outside the windows to the man at her side. “As I’ll ever be.”
Chapter Five – Enter Santamobile
We are definitely not back together in any way, shape or form, nor are we ever going to be.
Jason led the way to the rental lot, trying to ignore the words echoing in his head. She hadn’t known he could hear her when she said them to Elise.
They stepped through the automatic doors into the falling snow outside and Sam immediately began shivering. Jase frowned at the roller bag she had reclaimed from him at the rental counter. “Don’t you have a jacket in there?”
“When I boarded my first flight it was eighty-eight and humid and I expected to have access to my checked bags before I had to go outside in any kind of winter weather.”
Jase shrugged out of his suit coat before she finished the sentence. “Here.”
“Now you’ll freeze,” she protested. “There’s no point in both of us getting hypothermia.”
“I’ll be fine. The rental guy said the car wasn’t far.”
“Then I’ll be fine until we get there.”
Jase shoved the wad of fabric at her. “Samantha. You can put on the damn coat or we can stand here arguing until we both get frostbite, but I’m not moving until you’re wearing it.”
She glared, but accepted the coat, all but disappearing inside it as it dwarfed her smaller frame. She muttered something about devils not being able to freeze to death anyway, which he decided to ignore since his act of chivalry was already making his fingers feel numb.
He had an extra sweater in his carry-on bag, along with an emergency overnight kit just in case he got stranded somewhere, but he wasn’t going to take the time to fish the extra layer out now. Priority one was locating the car and cranking up the heat full blast.
“Come on.”
He trudged through the snow gathering around his ankles to the rental lot. Everything he wore was going to be soaked through by the time they got there, but he comforted himself with visions of seat heaters—the only car left at the rental agency had been a deluxe, whatever that meant.
He checked the rental paperwork—soggy from the falling snow—for their space number, but as soon as they rounded the corner of the building he realized he didn’t need to bother.
Only one car remained in the rental lot, haloed directly beneath a brightly shining light. The gleaming cherry red paint job was covered by only the lightest dustings of snow and the fresh tire tracks indicated it hadn’t been parked there long.
Jase didn’t know who had returned an all-wheel-drive crossover vehicle in the middle of a snow storm, but he wasn’t going to complain. The “deluxe” car could have been tailor made for them complete with ground clearance for snow drifts.
He drew up short when he noticed the license plate—XMS1225. It did look an awful lot like a sleigh…
“Jase?”
He snapped out of his visions of Santa as a car rental clerk and hit the key fob to raise the automatic tail gate. “Sorry. My imagination was running away with me. Let’s get inside and get warm.”
Belatedly realizing the keyfob had an autostart button, he pushed it—and a burst of warm air greeted them, along with Baby, It’s Cold Outside crooning through the high end sound system. The engine hadn’t even had time to cool since the last renter.
He tossed their roller bags into the rear of the SUV and hit the button to close it as he circled to the driver’s door. Sam had already claimed the passenger seat and was chafing her hands in front of the vents to warm them. Jase climbed in, surprised to the find the interior already pleasantly cozy.
“You must have been an awfully good girl this year.”
Sam’s gaze snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
His wave encompassed their cheery surrounds. “Santa must really love you to lend you his sleigh this close to Christmas. Did you see the license plate? XMS1225? Our own Santamobile suddenly appearing right when we need it—isn’t that one of those little moments of Christmas magic you always loved?”
She shrugged, huddling down defensively in the passenger seat. “Probably just someone with a weird sense of humor at the rental company.”
Jase fell silent, deciding maybe a strategic retreat and letting the Christmas music work its magic on her was the best tactic for now. He concentrated on driving, getting them out of the airport and headed north through the sheets of fat white flakes. The snow wasn’t letting up. If anything, the storm was only growing heavier, but the Santamobile managed the treacherous roads smoothly—even if they were crawling along at 35 mph on a 70 mph freeway.
Christmas songs filled the silence of the car, keeping it from feeling oppressive—until the opening chords of All I Want For Christmas Is You began to play.
Her favorite.
She must have made him watch Love, Actually a hundred times. He couldn’t begin to count the number of times he would hear it blasting over her stereo as she was decorating their apartment for the holidays. He’d once teased her that they would have to get married at Christmas time so this could be their first dance. Or their wedding march. Or both.
Sam reached out and flicked off the radio.
So much for their song softening her up.
For the next mile, the only sound was the swish-fwap of the windshield wipers. Until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Are you eager to get home?” he asked, reaching for a neutral topic. “Your family always does Christmas in a big way. You must have tons of events planned for the next few days.”
Sam hummed an affirmative noise, but her gaze stayed locked on the snow falling out the passenger side.
“Sam?”
“I want to be home,” she admitted softly in the snow-still quiet. “But I’m not looking forward to facing everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone who met Daniel.” She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet up underneath her in a familiar move. “I took him to White Falls for the Meet-the-In-Laws part of the show. It just feels strange to think about all of White Falls wondering if I’m coming home engaged.”
His heart stuttered at the thought. “Are you? Going home engaged?”
“I told you I can’t talk about it. I had to sign all kinds of confidentiality agreements. I can be sued for millions of dollars if anything about the show leaks.”
“Come on. You know me. If you tell me to keep my mouth shut, I will.” And it was killing him not knowing. Wondering if he’d come to his senses too late. He glanced at her, but all he saw was her profile as she stared out the side window. “Sam? Please.”
*
It was so tempting to tell him. She’d never thought she would want to confide in Jase MacGregor again, but he was here and he was familiar and she had to tell someone. Someone who knew her. And no one knew her like Jase.
“I’m not engaged.”
She heard him release a breath, as if he’d been holding it. “Do you love him?”
She’d wanted to. God knew she’d wanted to, but… “No.”
“Did you?” he pressed. “Did he break your heart?”
“No.” Though she’d almost wished he had. At least then she would know that she was finally over the man sitting beside her at the wheel, steering them through the gently falling snow.
The storm had let up some, white-out conditions diminishing to fluffy playful flakes, though the roads were still thick with accumulation, slowing their progress.
“Everyone will understand.” Jase adjusted the heater settings, turning up the window defrosters. “They just want you to be happy. No one will be disappointed that you didn’t marry the TV guy.”
She was disappointed. Not because she’d loved him, but because she wanted to be that girl again—the one who believed in happily-ever-after. “I guess.”
“Don’t worry about facing anyone. You’ll see. You’ll show up at the Winter Festival and everything will be like it always is.”
Everything except me. “That’s the other thing. They’re all going to expect me to leap into the holidays with the same enthusiasm I always do.”
“So?”
She struggled for an explanation. Some way to explain the void where that belief was supposed to live. “I just don’t feel it anymore. It’s like…I don’t know. It’s like my Christmas spirit is busted.”
“We can’t have that. You’re the Cindy Lou Who of White Falls. If you go Grinch on us, we’re all doomed.”
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her middle. “It doesn’t feel right this year. It’s hard to get into the mood of the season when you’ve just been dumped on a beach in Tahiti. It doesn’t exactly bring to mind elves and egg nog.”
He waved at the scene in front of the car, where the snow was starting to pick-up again, along with wind that made it swirl, gathering up the already fallen snow and throwing it at them. “Seems like the universe is doing its best to make it up to you. If this doesn’t make you crave cocoa, I don’t know what will.”
“It’s beautiful,” Sam acknowledged. “But this year, Christmas feels like one more thing I have to deal with when I get home rather than the season I’ve been looking forward to all year.”
“It’ll be different when you get there. It’ll all come back to you,” Jase insisted, but she couldn’t believe him.
Presents and parties and caroling and town events—normally she was first in line for all of it. But this year all she wanted was to curl up in her apartment—the same apartment she’d once shared with Jase—and hide out from the world. She didn’t even want to watch the cheesy Hallmark Channel Christmas movies. She almost wished the show had held her a few days longer so she would have an excuse to miss all the hubbub.
Which was completely uncharacteristic of her.
She’d always been the leader of the parade where Christmas was concerned…but it was easy to have Christmas spirit when she’d believed she had nothing but a lifetime of perfect Christmases in front of her.
Seeing a little child sitting on Santa’s lap had always made her smile, but now she couldn’t see them without wondering if she would ever have a child of her own to bring to meet Santa. She’d believed in the future, in happy endings, and in Christmas when she’d believed in Jase.
She hadn’t known how much of herself she’d lost when she lost him until she realized she’d lost her optimism. Her belief in Christmas miracles and fated love. She wanted to be the girl who believed again, but she didn’t know if that was the kind of thing you could get back once you lost it or if it was lost for good.
She had baggage now. Thanks to Jase.
But she couldn’t even hate him for it. Not properly.
She knew him. She knew he’d always wanted more than White Falls had to offer. Always felt like he had to do more and be more. She knew he had big dreams for them. She’d just believed he would figure out, like she had, that the adventures of California weren’t as important as the tradition, community and family they had in White Falls.
The snow worsened again, shrouding the car. Night had fallen and visibility grew all but nonexistent.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it tonight,” Jase said, pointing toward a mileage marker. “We’ve been on the road two hours and we’re barely into Wisconsin. With the weather like this, we probably shouldn’t push it, but I bet we’re far enough from the airport that there are rooms available.”
“Maybe the snow will let up soon,” Sam argued, not wanting to contemplate spending a night with Jase. “We can wait it out at a coffee shop or something.”
She flipped on the radio, looking for a weather report to tell her that the storm was ending, but instead caught the tail end of the DJ telling them to bundle up and stay inside because it was only going to get worse before it got better.
“Help me keep an eye out for someplace to spend the night?” Jase asked.
Sam turned toward the passenger window and made a show of looking for somewhere to stay, but could see nothing beyond the layers of white. The car was big enough they could curl up in the back if need be, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
The DJ wished his listeners a safe and warm night—and someone warm to cuddle up with—before the low smooth tones of Judy Garland beginning Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas came out of the speakers.
She’d always loved this song. The ache of it. She’d never had many troubles—spoiled by a charmed life—but now that she did she found she didn’t want all of her troubles to be out of sight next year. Not if that meant Jase would be out of sight.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she kept them from falling, her gaze on the white-out view beyond the window.
All this time and she still only wanted him.
The boy who’d been so nervous the first time he kissed her under the mistletoe that she’d felt his hands trembling where they cupped her face. The one who’d thrown her into the reservoir—half-screaming half-laughing—when she’d chickened out on the rope swing when they were nineteen. The man who’d always made her feel like the world was a bright shiny miracle, full of possibilities.
The hand that had always been reaching for hers right as she was reaching for his.
She looked at that hand now, resting on the steering wheel.
They must have left the interstate at some point, because a stoplight rose up in front of them and Jase slowed to a stop. Wind blew snow in swirling patterns in front of the headlights—
And then, like magic, the air seemed to clear in a pocket around the car and there it was, rising out of the night like a beacon.
An inn.
The lovely little Victorian was covered in charm and holiday decorations. Every eave was trimmed with garland and twinkling white lights wrapped the front and side porches. A red sign in the snow pointed toward the house and proclaimed North Pole: This Way! But it was the glowing sign in the window that caught Sam’s eye—the one flashing Vacancy.
Chapter Six – In Schnapps Veritas
The Thistledown Inn looked like a Christmas Market had exploded in the lobby. Every inch was decorated with holiday cheer—even the name plate above the front desk had been replaced with a new sign declaring it the Mistletoe Inn, complete with a dangling branch of the mentioned foliage.
Jase held the door for Sam and followed her inside, blinking a bit at his first sight of the profusion of decorations. The Latin version of O Come, All Ye Faithful surrounded them, emanating from a hidden stereo system.
“Wow,” Sam murmured, craning her neck to see all the way up the eleven foot Christmas tree that dominated the lobby. “Do you think they film Hallmark Channel
movies here?”
“Either that or we accidentally drove through some sort of portal and this is really the North Pole.” He waved toward the front desk. “If we ring the bell, do you think Mrs. Claus will arrive and give us hot cocoa?”
“As far as I’m concerned, the Winter Queen can arrive with Turkish delight as long as she gives us both rooms.”
Jase didn’t miss the pointed reference to separate rooms as he dropped their bags in front of the carved oak front desk and rang the bell.
Within moments the door behind the desk swung open and a woman bustled through.
“Holy crap, it is Mrs. Claus,” Jase muttered under his breath.
The woman who rushed toward the desk with a plate of Christmas cookies in her hands was a dead ringer for the famous North Pole wife, complete with white curls, wire-rimmed glasses and loud Christmas sweater proclaiming, “Rudolph is my co-pilot.”
“My goodness, did you come in out of that storm?” she exclaimed. “I didn’t think anyone was still on the roads. You must be frozen solid.” She set the cookies in front of them and reached behind the counter, coming up with an ornate silver carafe. “Cocoa? It’s my special recipe,” she said with a wink. “Guaranteed to warm you through.”
“Actually, we’re just hoping we can get two of your rooms,” Jase said, but Mrs. Claus was already pouring two mugs that she’d produced from behind the desk like magic.
“Oh no, dear,” Mrs. Claus exclaimed, extending a brimming cup of cocoa toward Sam. “We don’t have two rooms left.”
“But your sign…” Sam began, accepting the cup.
“Wouldn’t have any rooms at all if our honeymooners hadn’t had to cancel on account of this terrible weather,” Mrs. Claus went on, handing Jase his own mug. “Last room at the inn,” she exclaimed. “Aren’t you in luck?”
“Last room?” Sam repeated dubiously.
“We’ll take it,” Jase insisted, his tone brooking no argument. Then he took a sip of his cocoa and almost choked, his eyes watering—it wasn’t too hot, the temperature was perfection in fact, but the “special” ingredient in Mrs. Claus’s special cocoa appeared to be liberal quantities of Fireball whiskey. “Wow, that’s…”
