The Lumberjack's Yuletide Bride

by Kimberly Krey

  Maddie glanced over her shoulder as she reached for the mugs, a laugh sneaking up her throat. “You’re a dork,” she said.

  “I know,” he admitted. “It’s this school. It brings out the kid in me.”

  She scooped soup into each of the oversized mugs and popped them in the microwave. “I know what you mean.”

  William walked in as she’d said it, a tray of food in his hands. “Did you bring food?” he asked, excitement coating his tone.

  “Yeah, feel free to help yourself. It’s homemade chicken noodle.” Maddie caught the look on Will’s face as he noticed who was reclined comfortably on the couch, one leg propped onto his knee, hands splayed cradling the back of his head.

  “Oh, uh,” William said. “Better call pest control. Looks like we’ve got a bear in the room.”

  If awkward had an expression, there was no way Maddie could wipe it off her face.

  Bear raised a single brow, then tipped his head back and let out a short chuckle. “I’ve never heard of that one, man,” he said, his smile wide enough to show that dimple in his cheek.

  William folded his arms and scrunched his nose, a hint of satisfaction on his face.

  “I’m going to run and grab some rolls from Mrs. Clark. I’ll be right back.”

  Her pumps could not carry Maddie down that hall fast enough. What kind of sick humor did William have? She was well aware the other teachers and staff would pool into the room, one after the other. The only thing that eased her mind was that she had her very own classroom where they could hide away.

  It took some maneuvering through the crowded cafeteria, but soon Maddie held two stacked trays, two cartons of milk, two cookies, and four handmade rolls. She chuckled at the sight. Forget about junior high and high school all over again—the school lunch scenario took her all the way back to elementary school. Still, her stomach grumbled at the sight and smells of the fresh-baked goods.

  In the faculty room, Maddie channeled the archery skills she’d learned in sixth grade. Eye on the target, then make it quick. The target was the microwave, and boy did she make it quick. There was already a lineup, those waiting to heat up their own serving of Maddie’s soup. She accepted their appreciation with all the grace she could muster and spun to locate the bear in the room.

  A half-smile cocked on one side of his face, the picture of amusement as William spoke to him with great animation.

  She motioned for him to come grab his tray as she placed the hot mug of soup beside the napkin and spoon.

  “To be continued,” Bear said with a nod. “My lady awaits.”

  My lady?

  The hustle of microwave chimes, silverware pings, and cupboard-door clanks—all of it fell silent as Bear’s words lingered over the room. He’d forgotten he lived in a small town, perhaps. Where a witty word, if overheard, was the latest gossip whether true or false.

  Eyes shifted.

  Chins lifted.

  And Bear moved on through the paralyzed crowd with a wide grin. He took his tray in one large hand, then secured Maddie’s with the other, carrying it for her. “Thank you, Ms. Maddie. Catch y’all later.” And out of the room he went.

  Chapter 9

  “Ms. Collins, huh?” Bear said as he entered his old first-grade classroom. “Wow, being in here is a trip.” He was vaguely aware that Maddie had closed the door after following him in. A woman in her profession must really value her quiet time.

  “Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “I remember sitting in this very room, watching Mrs. Crowther write on the board, wanting to be a teacher one day too. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was sweet and adorable.” Maddie scooted in between her rolling chair and the desk as Bear rested her tray on a thin stack of papers.

  He set his tray on the other side, working to recall an image of their old teacher. “Oh, was she the one with red hair? Wore it kind of high?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Think I got in trouble by her a couple of times.”

  Maddie stuck a spoon in her soup and stirred. “You think?” That wry smile—he remembered it. And he’d be danged if he didn’t like it too.

  “Just what are you implying, Ms. Maddie?”

  “Nothing,” she said, her smile growing wider. And those eyes—grayish blue and gorgeous.

  “I’ll have you know,” Bear said, grabbing the spoon off his tray as well, “all of my teachers liked me.”

  Maddie blew on a spoonful of soup. “Oh, they liked you, all right, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t drive them crazy.”

  “Well, I wasn’t too worried about impressing my teachers, if I’m being honest. I was more interested in the girls in my class.”

  A soft pink color flooded Maddie’s cheeks. “Girls like Shawna Murphy?”

  Bear knew just what she was referring to, but he may as well play dumb. Besides, her tone held a hint of jealousy, and that definitely intrigued him. “Shawna … what about her?” He swallowed a spoonful of soup, then tore off a chunk of a roll.

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “The kiss in the tunnel. All of us heard about it.” She reached for her milk, continuing as she pried opened the small cardboard spout. “Shawna made sure we all knew about it.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “Fifth grade.”

  “Sixth,” she corrected. “Shawna wasn’t here in fifth. You went straight for the new girl,” she mumbled before blowing on her soup once more. “So typical.”

  He liked hearing her repeat the details. Especially such specifics. She had been paying attention to him. He’d never been too sure about that. Well, not until later, anyway.

  They ate in comfortable quiet for a bit, Maddie’s gaze shifting between him, her tray, and the window of her closed door.

  “Are the other teachers going to come spy on us?” Bear could hardly fight back the grin.

  She smiled back. “Probably.”

  “I think Willy Walker has the hots for you.”

  That one earned a genuine laugh. “No comment.”

  Bear grinned. “Oh, now I’m intrigued. You don’t have to volunteer anything, but will you answer if I ask?”

  “Sure.”

  “This soup’s delicious, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Maddie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He’d always loved the color. He remembered sitting behind her one year and noticing how when the sun shone in from just the right angle, her dark brown hair would take on a reddish tint.

  “Let’s see.” He took another spoonful of soup. Another bite of his roll too. “Does he come to your classroom a lot?”

  “I guess.”

  “You’ve gone on dates with him?”

  She shook her head. “Just one. He asked me out just before you came into town.”

  He nodded, wondering if she felt anything for the guy. Didn’t seem likely. “So just the one date.”

  She nodded again.

  Bear figured it was as innocent as that. Even if Willy had told him otherwise in the faculty room. “Did he ask you out for another date—while walking you to the door?”

  “No.” She broke off a piece of her cookie and popped it in her mouth.

  “Hmm …” Bear said. “His mistake.” He glanced out the window, smiling as a bunch of bundled-up kids made for the playground. “Would you like to go out with me tonight?”

  “Tonight?” She looked surprised.

  “Yes.” He held her gaze, willing her to remember the sparks between them. Sparks that hadn’t been allowed to burn just yet, though he could feel their promise smoldering somewhere low in his belly.

  That full, beautiful smile pulled at Maddie’s lips. “Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”

  “Let me see what the other one looks like again.”

  Maddie tilted her head, giving Kate a pleading look. “You didn’t even say if you liked this one.”

  Kate tugged the dark-rimmed glasses off her face and breathed a puff of hot air on them. “I do. I just think I might like the other one better, so I want to see it.�
� She proceeded to clean her lenses with the hem of her blouse.

  Maddie checked the clock above her mantel. “Can’t believe he asked me for tonight.”

  Kate pulled a dreamy grin, her face looking childlike without the glasses. “I can. I think he could be your match.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened. “How could you say that?”

  “You both love the country life. I mean, obviously Bear likes it. He came back. And it’s better that he got his taste of the city life out of his system.” She slipped her glasses back on and grinned. “He appreciates what he has here more now.”

  Panic rose within Maddie as she checked the time once more. “Crap, he’s going to be here soon.”

  “Go put on the other outfit. I liked it better.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?”

  Kate shrugged. “I just decided.” She hopped up from the couch, reached for her scarf, and tossed it around the back of her neck. She grabbed her puffy blue coat off the edge of the couch next. “I better go. If I’m here when he comes, it will look like a total chick flick.”

  Maddie blinked a few times, her mind going a million miles. “Then you’re not going to be here to see me in the other outfit.”

  “I already knew when you came out the first time. It’s perfect.” She shrugged into one sleeve, then the next as Maddie followed her to the door. “It’s Cam’s turn to cook tonight. Said he’s trying something new. I hate when he tries something new.” She pulled Maddie in for a hug, the puffy blue coat like a body of its own. “Bye. Have fun.”

  Maddie nodded. “Okay.”

  “And go change.”

  “I will.” More nodding.

  “Right now.”

  Right. She let Kate close the door behind her; she needed to bust a move.

  A quick weave through the front room furniture, a short bolt down the hall, and soon Maddie was back in her room, belting a country song about vandalizing a guy’s car. She was mid-sentence at her favorite part when she noticed her phone lit up on her nightstand.

  Maddie hobbled over as she worked a pair of jeans over her thighs. Kate’s name glowed on the screen.

  With a quick swipe Maddie picked up the call and put it on speaker. “Yeah?”

  “In case you didn’t hear us, I let Bear in already. He walked up to the door as I was leaving.”

  “In?” Maddie stared at her open bedroom door as horror took a tight grip on her. “Are you kidding?” she hissed, rushing over to close her door. Gently. So gently now. She rushed back over to where the phone charged. “You’re telling me that he is in my house right now?”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “I hollered out to you that he was there. And Bear even said, Hello Maddie, but when you didn’t say anything back I kind of worried, and then I heard the singing as I walked to my car …”

  Maddie froze in place. “Oh my gosh. I want to fall in a hole right now.”

  “No hole-falling. It’s fine. You sounded fine. Just finish getting dressed and get out there. Have fun.”

  When the screen went black, Maddie finished buttoning her pants and shuffled over to the closed door. She leaned her ear toward the crack between the oak door and the frame. “Bear?” she hollered.

  “Yep.”

  Holy incredible voice of a man in her house … “Hi! I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Sounds good,” he hollered. “I’m just finishing off all the ice cream in your freezer. Hope you don’t mind.”

  She grinned. “Nice try,” she hollered. “I’m one of those rare humans who doesn’t like ice cream.” She switched out her silver necklace for a gold chain. “Just stay away from my chocolate stash in the fridge.”

  “Is it dark chocolate?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll have no problem staying away from it, then. Ick.”

  Maddie chuckled. As enamored as she was with the burly lumberjack—and she was enamored—there was an ease between them. Probably had something to do with growing up together.

  She scurried back to the mirror and gave herself a nod of approval. She’d kicked her cowgirl boots off in such a rush that it took a minute to find them, but at last they were on her feet and leading her toward the nightstand, where she grabbed her phone.

  A text from Kate lit up the screen, and Maddie read it as she cracked open her door:

  He smells so good! Ask him what he’s wearing so I can get some for Cam.

  Maddie shook her head; like she’d ever ask him that. The phone let out a buzz as another text came in:

  Oh, and maybe don’t sing anymore tonight.

  That one made her laugh out loud. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  Chapter 10

  “So I have to admit,” Bear said, guiding his Jeep into the parking lot of Duckdale’s Pizzeria, “after hearing about your freakish lack of love for ice cream, I’m starting to wonder if you’re going to like what I have planned.”

  “Ice cream for dinner?”

  He chuckled. “Nope. But—like ice cream—it’s an American favorite.”

  Maddie glanced at the Pizzeria’s sign. “I love pizza.”

  “Good,” he said, shutting off the engine. “A buddy of mine owns this place. Remember Brady Hall?”

  She tilted her head, bit the corner of her bottom lip. “Oh yeah. Played football with you?”

  He caught himself admiring Maddie as she spoke. “Yeah, that’s him. He owns this place.” Bear opened his door. “I’ll come around and let you out, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said in a low, sexy voice. She batted her lashes, reminding him of just how playful she could be.

  She’d always been pretty, but this—Maddie Collins at twenty-six years old—was one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen. It almost made him reluctant to close the driver’s side door. But he did it, then strolled around the back of the Jeep to open hers.

  Wow, even prettier at this angle, the red flashing bulbs from the sign lighting her face like some sort of goddess. He took her hand, helped her down the running board and onto the shoveled parking lot. She wore a pair of jeans, red cowgirl boots, and a gray blouse, the color playing tricks with those gorgeous eyes of hers.

  He missed seeing her in boots like those. Missed seeing her at all. “Brady told me to walk in through the back door,” he explained as he guided her along the side of the building. “Have you been here in the last couple of years?” He pulled the door open for her.

  “No, I don’t think I’ve been here since I was, like, ten.”

  Bear smiled. “Good. Because he’s kind of doing a new thing here, and I really think it’s going to be a hit.”

  Brady met them at the kitchen entrance, white pants, white top, and a white apron too. All of it contrasting his dark skin. He wasted no time setting them up in one of their reservation rooms—a room reserved for guests to make their own pizzas.

  “It’s private,” Brady explained while wheeling in the supplies on a cart. “Unless you don’t mind people looking in on you. If you don’t mind letting customers watch, you can pull open this curtain, and you’ll become our entertainment for the evening.”

  Bear glanced over at Maddie as she eyed the room. A long counter took up the wall where the half-curtain hung.

  “Why would anyone volunteer to let everyone watch them?” Maddie asked through a grin.

  “Ah,” Brady said while unloading ingredients from the mobile shelving unit. “I’m glad you asked.” He grunted while pulling something from the bottom compartment of the cart. “This is why people say yes. Not only does our couple get to enjoy a specialty dessert pizza, our viewers get samples of the dessert as well.” Brady moved his gaze from Bear to Maddie.

  Bear did the same; a decision like this was definitely up for the lady to make.

  “I don’t mind having it open,” she said. “But Bear might.”

  Bear lifted his chin. “Why’s that?”

  “You’re a celebrity now. You don’t want to be signing autogra
phs all night, do you?”

  He chuckled. “You’re the one who’s famous around here, sugar.” He turned back to Brady. “You should’ve seen the kids of Cobble Creek go wild for this woman when I called her onstage.”

  “I can imagine,” Brady said with an approving nod. “Poor kids.”

  Bear hadn’t missed the insinuation. It reminded him of just how wanted Maddie was back then. “Well, if neither of us have an objection, I say let’s whip open that curtain and let the fun begin.”

  “Oh, there’s one last thing,” Brady said. “You can’t cook until you’re properly suited up.”

  Had Maddie known she’d be forced to wear a giant baker’s hat, she might not have agreed to the whole audience gig. Here they stood, dressed like Chef Boyardee, each struggling to catch their spinning flats of dough.

  “I think I’m ready for the sauce.” Bear lowered the lopsided disc of dough onto the baking stone before him. Only Bear Schaefer could make even this ridiculous getup look good. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he’d rolled up the long sleeves to reveal his tan, muscular arms. And untucked the red scarf from his double-breasted jacket while unbuttoning the top two. She’d heard people say some could sing the phonebook and sound good. Well, Bear Schaefer could probably wear that same phonebook and make it look like a million bucks.

  He pressed at the dough in a few spots and took a step back. “There. Looks good enough, don’t you think?”

  Maddie giggled. “Yeah, if you don’t mind holes. And bumps,” she said, nodding to the hills and valleys his dough created on the pan.

  “You’re just jealous,” he said.

  “No way. Mine might be on the thick side, but at least it’s even.”

  A tiny tap sounded on the glass.

  “Oh my gosh. It’s our first audience member,” Maddie said, eyeing the adorable little boy with wide brown eyes and dark hair. Probably a kindergartner. She gave him a wave and a grin. “Hi, buddy!”

  “How you doing, little man?” Bear asked.

  A proud-looking couple stood off to the distance, giggling as they watched the small child wave back.