The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride

by Kimberly Krey

  The thought took him back to his dinner with Kristen. As spoiled and demanding as that woman could be—and she was plenty of both—she knew more about public relations than Bear gave her credit for.

  At their dinner meeting, she’d produced some staggering figures. Data showed that questions regarding the forest bill (before it passed) were among top hits on the internet, several of them linking back to Big Daddy Mills. Beyond that, investments in the lumber industry had climbed significantly since their campaign had begun. In short, Bear might not have liked the way Kristen had tried shifting his image from a business-owning, log-carting lumberjack to some sort of chest-baring, eye-smoldering sex-figure, but at least his cause had been heard. And best of all, it seemed Kristen was willing to take another look at his proposal, which was a success of its own.

  The relationship conversation hadn’t gone over as well as the business talk. While celebrating their recent conquest, Kristen had kicked back a few too many drinks and wound up sloshed, putting the conversation on hold yet again.

  In retrospect, that may have been for the best. After all, if he could hold things off until the proposal was signed, Bear could keep Kristen from vetoing in retaliation.

  With that, Bear set his mind back on home. After being gone half a year straight, he had a lot of making up to do. Thank heavens Ethan had been able to run the logging team in his absence. His right-hand man had done a fine job of it from what Bear understood. Praise the heavens for that. He’d spell Ethan off, let him take a week to refuel, and do something special for the logging team too. Next, Bear would find a way to repay his mother for taking care of his house and dog while he was gone.

  “There’s no place like home,” a tiny voice blurted from behind. Bear leaned to see the small child through the window once more. He was nudged up to his mom, a big grin on his face.

  The woman shushed him. “Whisper,” she urged as she pointed to a page of the book she held. A couple of small mice took up the cover. “So did they like it in the town or the country better?”

  Bear turned his gaze away from the sight, remembering a time when the book was read to him in school. Second grade. No, first. Mrs. Crowther’s class. He nodded, feeling like the heavens were making their voice heard. I get it, he mused. I’m a country mouse. Not a town mouse.

  The view of the mother and son put Bear’s thoughts on his sister Brenda and her boy. Just last week Brenda announced she and Adam were getting divorced, which meant she was homebound as well. Hopefully little Phillip would adjust all right, poor kid.

  “Are you done with your drink, sir?”

  Bear glanced over to see the flight attendant, cheeks flushed and lashes working overtime. “I can take that if you’re done.” She leaned in and covered one side of her mouth. “Or refill it if you’d like. Can’t do that for everyone, but I’d do that for you.”

  He gave her a genuine grin and a nod. “Thank you, but I’m good.” He tipped back his cup, let the last few cubes fall into his mouth, and gave them a crunch before tossing the cup into the bag she held.

  When she stood looking at him, he spoke up once more. “Thank you.”

  “Sorry, but can I just ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you Bear Schaefer, the lumberjack guy? I’m almost positive I’ve seen your face on those billboards with the unbuttoned shirt and the axe.”

  “Yep. That’s me. But between the two of us, I’m about to retire the whole modeling thing. Permanently.”

  “You look a little young to retire,” she said, her face flaring up with a new batch of color.

  He grinned. “After being away for far too long, I’ll simply go back to running things from my hometown. That’s all.”

  “Well,” she said, “I think the folks in Wyoming are lucky to have you.”

  “You’re kind for saying so,” he said. “But the truth is, with a place like Cobble Creek to call home, I’d have to say I’m the lucky one.”

  Silence wasn’t something that usually bothered Maddie. In fact, as a first-grade teacher, she cherished her quiet time. But as she sat in the passenger seat of Willy Walker’s sedan, the silence was more bothersome than a rowdy classroom waiting for recess.

  “Did you do some fall decorating? In your room?” she asked.

  William shook his head, adjusting his white-knuckled grip on the wheel. Headlights illuminated a mass of fast-falling flakes. The wet kind that turned into piles of slush on the pavement.

  “Hmm. I remember you saying something about maybe doing that.” She pulled in a breath and looked out the window. The sedan’s tires seemed to have a decent tread; they hadn’t slipped so much as an inch. Maddie only wished she could find a topic that would gain that kind of traction. So far, she hadn’t had any luck.

  “Oh, I wanted to tell you,” she said, remembering something. “The assembly coming up on Tuesday … why don’t you let me take your class this time?”

  “No, no no,” he said.

  “But I really don’t mind—”

  “You did it for me last time,” Willy said. “This one’s on me.”

  “Yeah, but I actually kind of want—”

  “I insist.”

  “I’m not missing this one, okay?” The sound of her voice echoed within the small space. Maddie hadn’t wanted to come right out and say it, but he hadn’t given her a choice. She blew out a slow, steady breath, shooting a quick glance at him. “You can go too, if you’d like,” she said. “We can both go.”

  “I don’t want to go; I was trying to do something nice.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want to miss it.”

  “I can see that.”

  A moment of quiet crept in once more. Maddie cracked her knuckles, feeling as if she might laugh aloud from the exchange. It was comical if she thought about it.

  “You know what really bothers me?” Willy asked.

  Maddie shook her head, both curious and nervous for what he might share.

  “When parents act like their kids are irresistible or something. I get it. They like their kids. But that’s only because they’re the parents. I can pretty much guarantee that no one else is going to think their giggling and joke-telling and pestering is anything special. It just bugs me because the parents are always saying things like ‘Don’t you think it’s so darling when Joey draws pictures all over his paper?’ And I want to say, ‘Actually, it’s annoying. He’s supposed to be doing his work.’”

  Maddie nodded. “Yeah, kids should definitely finish their worksheet before they start doodling on it.”

  “You’re missing the whole point,” Will said.

  Maddie’s eyes went wide. “I am?” Of course, he was right. She’d left the other part alone because she didn’t exactly relate. She reached an arm out to shut the vent in front of her.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “You’re a woman, so you probably won’t understand.”

  A short chuckle snuck from her lips. Maddie glanced over to see the stone-faced expression he wore. “Are you serious?”

  William shrugged.

  If the idea of seeing Bear Schaefer again was a high, this night was definitely a low. A reminder of why she did not like the dating world. Perhaps the silence wasn’t so bad after all.

  Throughout dinner, Maddie said as little as possible. Willy was a tough one to figure out. She’d always assumed he was simply quirky, but after tonight, if Maddie had to narrow him down with just one word, she might use rude.

  When they pulled up to her driveway at last, William parked parallel to the curb. “Don’t want to make tire marks on your driveway,” he explained.

  Maddie looked down at her ankle-high boots. “Trust me, I’d rather shovel tire marks than walk through this in these.”

  Without replying, William unbuckled his belt and climbed out.

  Maddie shook her head as she watched him walk around to her side, blinking as the flakes hit his glasses. “Weird,” she murmured.

 
He flung open her door and reached a hand toward her. “Would you like me to carry you?” he asked.

  Maddie could barely hold back a laugh. “No, thank you.”

  William rolled his eyes. “Women. Always think they’re too heavy for us.”

  She slipped a few times on the way to the door, and shivered as the wet, slushy snowflakes drifted into the shallow tops of her boots.

  “Should have just let me carry you,” he grumbled at the door.

  “Thank you for dinner, William. It was nice.”

  William took a step back and scrunched his nose. His poor glasses were caked with chunks of fallen snow. “No problem. See you tomorrow at work.”

  Maddie turned to open the door. No need to point out that tomorrow was Saturday.

  Chapter 4

  Tuesday morning, the smell of coffee wafted through the halls of the elementary school, luring Maddie with a promise: a boost in energy before the kids piled in.

  Since she’d volunteered to take William’s class during today’s assembly, he’d offered to let her class join his for morning science lab. And thank heavens. Maddie had been so torn on her clothing selection that she’d packed up her three top choices and headed out in sweats and a tee shirt.

  Normally the decision wasn’t so hard, but today was different. Today she would step into the auditorium to see Bear Schaefer in all his glory standing on that stage; she had to look her best.

  The three selections were hanging back in Maddie’s classroom. Two of her favorite suit-dresses, and one new outfit she’d purchased over the weekend—one that looked perfect in the store, and then less perfect in the mirror this morning. Hence, the outfit dilemma.

  Kate and Cam approached the teachers’ lounge from the opposite end of the hall, the two mumbling to one another. Something about their son, Matt, by the sounds of it.

  “Nice outfit,” Kate mumbled as they stepped into the warmly lit room.

  “Thanks,” Maddie said with a laugh. “Sometimes you’ve just got to air out the old sweatpants, right?”

  Kate, first to the coffeepot, chuckled. “Right. And the old high school tee shirt too.”

  Maddie gave the wrinkled tee a glance. “Yep. I’ve still got it.” She grabbed a sugar packet, tore off the top, and motioned for Cam to go ahead of her while she dumped it into her empty mug. “Wonder if anyone else from my graduating class still has theirs?”

  “I’ve got mine,” he admitted. “And I graduated before you.” Cam poured his own cup before hovering the pot over Maddie’s mug and filling it as well.

  Once he walked over to the window, Kate bumped Maddie’s hip with hers. “Hey, did you know who’s going to be here today for the assembly?”

  Maddie’s face filled with heat. Admitting she knew felt like an understatement. “Of course.” A silly grin made its way to her face as she reached for one of the stale glazed doughnuts. May as well; her wardrobe crisis hadn’t left a lot of time for things like breakfast.

  “I hear he’s ready to settle down in his hometown,” Kate chimed, steam from her coffee fogging her glasses.

  “Good idea,” Maddie said. “Come on back to Momma …”

  The two giggled as a boisterous voice carried from down the hall. Nancy’s. The woman had three distinct tones: talking to a fellow faculty member was low and fast, talking to the kids was high and slow, and talking with a parent or guest was loud and cheery. She was with a guest. Maddie only hoped it wasn’t the one she and Kate were talking about.

  “Just right in here.” Nancy appeared in the doorway; whoever she spoke to was still in the hallway.

  Maddie took a backward step toward the edge of the couch, eyeing the entry like she eyed Marcus Maylor during tests.

  “Go ahead and help yourself to a cup of coffee. We’ve got day-old doughnuts here, if Maddie hasn’t eaten them all. Just kidding, Mad.”

  Maddie’s eyes went wide in horror. Whether from the remark or the sight of who’d stepped into the room, she wasn’t sure.

  “Folks,” Nancy said, “this is Bear Schaefer. Former CCE graduate. He’ll be addressing the kids at our assembly today. He’s a bit early, so I told him he could hang back here with the cool kids. Good thing Willy’s not here.” Nancy, who had former bully written all over her, directed Bear’s attention toward the center of the room where Cam skimmed the morning paper.

  Did people actually walk around looking like that? Burly Bear with his five-o’clock shadow, beige-colored beanie, and forest-green flannel shirt. A pair of casual jeans and mountain boots completed the picture of wonderful masculinity. He reached out and shook Cam’s hand, revealing a stretch of muscles between his elbow and his wrist, where his sleeves and been pushed up.

  Who looked like this? In person? Sure, the magazines and billboards always had him looking runway ready, but here? At his old elementary school?

  “We’ve got Stan back there in the corner,” Nancy continued. “Kate over here to our right …”

  Bear gave the two a wave in turn. “Nice to meet you both.”

  “And this here’s the little doughnut snatcher,” Nancy said, pointing to Maddie.

  He chuckled. The sound deep and masculine and more familiar than she imagined. “This one, I already know,” Bear said, stepping over to shake her hand. “How are you doing, Maddie?”

  There went her heart again, acting up as she slid her mug onto the counter to take his outstretched hand. Wait, did he just look at my wedding finger? “I’m doing well, thanks. What about you?” Talk about muscle. It was like shaking hands with a rock.

  He held her gaze, his warm brown eyes seeming to toy with her somehow. “I’m doing a whole lot better now.”

  Kate, who stood behind Bear, fanned her face.

  “I knew that you were a teacher here, but I don’t remember what grade you teach.”

  “First,” she said.

  He nodded and released her hand. “You look good.”

  “Thanks, so do you.”

  “Yeah, Maddie,” Nancy said. “Did I miss the memo? Is it dress in your PJs day?”

  Laughter broke out over the group.

  She’d momentarily forgotten about her mess of an outfit. “Very funny, Nancy,” Maddie said, leaving her coffee and doughnut on the counter. “But that reminds me, I better go get dressed real quick.” She managed a smile in Bear’s direction. “Nice to see you again.”

  “You too.”

  As she walked out of the room, she heard Nancy speak up once more. “What’s her deal?”

  Maddie fanned at her face while hurrying toward her classroom, Nancy’s question still echoing down the hall. Wasn’t it obvious?

  Chapter 5

  The boisterous secretary might have given Maddie Collins a hard time about her casual clothes, but Bear hadn’t minded them a bit. In fact, it had him recalling days where she and the other cheerleaders worked out beside the football field. Heck, she’d even been wearing her old high school shirt. Talk about a flashback. What she hadn’t been wearing was a wedding ring. Bear had been positive he’d lost his chance with her. Guess she didn’t marry Dave Carlisle after all.

  He eyed her abandoned breakfast on the counter as Kate and her husband, Cam, asked about Big Daddy Mills’s position on the bill that passed.

  “We definitely encouraged that one,” he explained. “But we’re also doing our best to educate the next generation so that we don’t lose ground in the future. There’s a lot of debate, but not a lot of awareness of what the real problems are.”

  “I hear you,” came a voice from behind.

  The couple tipped their heads to see around him, and Bear turned to see who’d joined in on the conversation. “Willy?”

  “It’s William now,” he said, reaching out to shake his hand. He crinkled his nose as he stepped over to join Kate and Cam. “I was following that bill too. You and I might not have the same agenda, but neither of us wants the forests to run dry.”

  “My hope is that after today, you’ll have a better understand
ing of what my position really is.”

  “Actually, I won’t hear it,” William said. “Maddie Collins is watching my class during the assembly.”

  Bear shrugged. “Then I guess she’ll know better where I’m coming from, if she doesn’t already.”

  “She and I date,” William blurted.

  “You do?” the woman named Kate asked.

  A bell sounded, and Bear realized that most of the faculty members had already cleared out.

  “Since when?” Kate prodded.

  “Since I took her to Copper Pots over the weekend.” William scrunched his nose again and straightened his sweater vest. “She wanted to try it out after hearing you guys say how good it was.”

  Enough silence took over that Bear half expected crickets to chirp.

  “Well,” Cam said before clearing his throat. “We’d better get to class.” He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

  William pulled his territorial gaze off Bear before shuffling toward the exit as well, a hesitant-looking Kate at his heels.

  “See you later,” she mumbled.

  Bear glanced around the room, realizing he was alone at last, and then sunk into the couch. That was weird.

  “Hey,” came a whisper from the doorway. It was Kate. “Just wanted you to know that Maddie’s not interested in William.”

  He lifted a brow. “She’s not?”

  Kate grinned. “Nope. But she is single, and she could really use a date with someone who’s … not Willy Walker.” She ducked down the hall, leaving Bear with images of Maddie. Flushed cheeks, sea-blue eyes, and a smile that still made his insides spark like a fire in the night.

  He’d always been intrigued by Maddie Collins. Sweet and innocent. A little bashful, perhaps, but playful too. Heck, she’d made the cheer squad; she could get loud and flick her hair like the rest of them. But she’d never exuded the snooty mentality that many of them had. That whole I’m-larger-than-life vibe. And he’d be danged if she wasn’t prettier than most of them too. Yep, he was definitely interested in Maddie. And Bear as glad to hear that—according to Kate—she could really use a night out.