Christmas in Snow Valley

by Cindy Roland Anderson

  “I know you will. I love you.”

  “Not as much as I love you.”

  ***

  After dinner that night, the rest of the family made various excuses and disappeared. Kazlyn didn’t complain about the chance to be alone with Ty. It was the best pre-Christmas present she could ask for.

  She burrowed into his right side to avoid bumping his foot that was propped up on the stool.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  The only lights were from the beautifully decorated Christmas tree and the gas fireplace. His dark eyes glowed in the firelight.

  “Good as long as I’m next to you.”

  “You schmoozer.”

  “You know it.”

  “What did your mom and your coach have to say?” They hadn’t had a moment alone to talk and she didn’t want to ask with everyone around.

  “Mom wanted to make sure you know how wonderful I am.” He smirked as if it was a joke.

  “Oh, I do.” Kazlyn wasn’t even teasing. She appreciated every inch of this man.

  “And Coach was upset about the news, but he…” Ty paused, his eyes shining with excitement, “He said if I don’t go play in Europe, he’ll give me a job as one of his assistant coaches.”

  Kazlyn jumped and squealed. “Oh, Ty, really?”

  “Really.”

  “Can he do that? You have no experience.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He laughed at her mortified expression.

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “I know you didn’t. He can choose anyone he wants for his coaching staff. It’s in his contract.”

  “Wow. That is wonderful.”

  “It is.” He studied her. “Kazlyn, yesterday I felt like my world had collapsed.”

  She nodded her understanding.

  “I can’t tell you what it meant that you were there for me. I kept praying that I’d have a Christmas miracle and be healed somehow.” He grimaced as he looked at his foot. “That probably isn’t going to happen, but I realized all of this is for a reason. I thought I wouldn’t have anything to offer you, but with Coach’s offer and the possibility that I could play in Europe—”

  “Wait a minute,” Kazlyn interjected, sitting taller. “What do you mean that you didn’t have anything to offer me?”

  Ty studied the firelight. “Sorry, you still need to give me those humility lessons.” He tried to smile but failed. “Maybe you don’t want me to have anything to offer. Maybe you don’t want me.”

  “Tyrese Hamilton!” Kazlyn slapped her hand against his chest. “Of course I want you, and I’d want you if all you had was that piece of crap truck and the grin on your face! Do you understand me?”

  Ty stared at her for a second and then he chuckled. “Oh, Kazzy.” Suddenly, his eyes grew serious and his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “I love you.”

  She bit her lip and smiled at him. “I love you, too.”

  Ty cradled her head with his hand, slowly bringing her lips to his. “Merry Christmas, love.”

  The kiss started tenderly, but the passion and love Kazlyn felt for him were stronger and brighter than any fire. It was the best Christmas she’d ever had.

  Epilogue

  Almost one year later

  EVERY TIME KAZLYN WATCHED THE Aggies play, she felt a little pang that she’d never see Ty play again, but watching him coach was almost as much fun. He was so into the game, but also so great with the players. Even though he was only a year older than a few of them, they all showed him a lot of respect.

  The team ran up the tunnel for halftime and Ty reached up to grab Kazlyn’s hand and give her a grin before he went into the locker room. This seat next to the tunnel was now her permanent spot and Ty made sure she had four seats there so she could bring friends or family. Amazingly, school was actually easier now that she was accepted into the master’s program and focusing on what she wanted to be doing the rest of her life. She never missed a game and she even found time to dance with a local group.

  Tonight her mom, Luke, and Porter were there to support Ty. It was so much fun to be with everyone.

  The Aggiettes danced and then the announcer requested, “Would Kazlyn Wilson please come down to the Aggie’s bench?”

  Kazlyn turned to her family. “What?”

  Luke helped her stand and gently pushed her. “Go. You must’ve won something.”

  Kazlyn ran down the steps and onto the floor. The entire crowd stared at her, but the announcer didn’t say anything else. She stood there feeling incredibly stupid for half a minute before a deep voice she’d recognize anywhere came over the loud speaker. “Kazzy, will you marry me?”

  Kazlyn whirled and stared at Ty sauntering out of the tunnel with a mic in one hand and an open ring box in the other. She didn’t even look at the ring. She launched herself into his arms and screamed, “Yes!”

  Unfortunately the mic was right by her mouth and the entire stadium was blasted with her answer. Everyone laughed and applauded and somebody grabbed the mic. Ty lifted her off her feet for a kiss. He set her down and slipped a gorgeous round diamond set in a thick gold band on her finger.

  “Luke thought I’d won something,” she told him breathlessly.

  Ty grinned. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’ve won the best thing I can imagine.”

  Ty pulled her in for another kiss. The crowd bellowed their approval and as one shouted, “Tyyyy-reeese!”

  Additional works by Cami

  The Broken Path

  Fourth of July

  Dead Running

  Dying to Run

  Poison Me

  Blog This

  The Colony

  Shadows in the Curtain

  A portion of the proceeds from Full Court Devotion will be donated to The Child and Family Support Center. For more information on this worthy cause – http://childandfamilysupportcenter.org/

  Sign up for Cami’s newsletter at www.camichecketts.com

  About the Author

  Cami is a part-time author, part-time exercise consultant, part-time housekeeper, full-time wife, and overtime mother of four adorable boys. Sleep and relaxation are fond memories. She’s never been happier.

  Please refer to her website – http://www.camichecketts.com for more information about her book

  The Christmas Eve Kiss

  Taylor Hart

  Dedication

  To my four boys; Daniel, Grant, Jacob, Benjamin—you’re the best! To the man of my dreams, my husband, Mark—I love you forever!

  Chapter One

  DENVER, COLORADO

  If I hadn’t been a cynic, I might have found the mistletoe hanging above the apartment door romantic or hopeful or happy. But, I’d quit believing in Christmas miracles and love and fairytales a long time ago. Too bad my roommate, Christina, was still naïve enough to hope a plant, and a poisonous one at that, would lead to a handsome prince.

  The tape anchoring the mistletoe ripped easily as I pulled it down. I put my key into the lock and shoved the door back. “I’m not amused, Christina,” I said waving the offending plant in front of me as I entered the apartment.

  Laughter sounded from the kitchen and light Christmas music lingered in the background. I followed the sound down the hall. Gold and red lights lit up a Christmas tree and quirky homemade decorations set off strands of popcorn. I told Christina not to take the time to decorate, but she hadn’t listened to me. She never did.

  Christina held a piece of tomatillo out to me. “Try this, Molly, and tell me if it’s too salty.” Her green cat-looking eyes sparkled with mischief as she flipped her long, black hair off her shoulder. “And what do you have against mistletoe?”

  Her homemade tomatillos were enough to ease my irritation. The tomato flavor exploded into my mouth, both sweet and salty. I remembered why I put up with Christina’s eccentric ways—good cooking.

  “Yum.” I breathed out and closed my eyes for a second.

  Christ
ina laughed. “You look tired, why do you choose to work insane hours during the best time of year? You need to relax, kiss more men. Kiss any man. Quit selling rings and get a ring on your finger.”

  I did work insane hours, but that was the jewelry business at Christmas time. “Can I just tell you how glad I’ll be when the most wonderful time of the year is over? Six days.”

  Christina batted her eyes at me. She made a kissing motion. “It’s because of that heart breaker, Kevin, isn’t it? The one from Snow Valley? That’s why you don’t like mistletoe?”

  I vaguely remembered letting his name slip one too late night over too much hot chocolate. “Please don’t say that name.”

  She shrugged, lifting a speculative eyebrow. “Well, it doesn’t matter; Luis and Sean are coming in ten minutes.”

  Luis was Christina’s three-month serious boyfriend. Which was really serious for Christina. Sean was his roommate that Christina perpetually tried to fix me up with. It wouldn’t happen. Not that he was a bad guy. Not really, discounting the fact that he sold bonds and constantly wanted to tell me how much money he made and what I should buy in the market that day. Plus, it didn’t help that he wanted to count my protein intake for me, either.

  “Christina.” I leaned down to take off my shoes, already tired from just thinking about an evening with Sean.

  The gas stove clicked on and then simmered as Christina put a pan of mild sauce on top. “I think you need to simmer it.”

  “What?”

  “The key to a good sauce is to simmer it. Mama always let the sauce simmer all day, but if you just give it all a good fifteen minutes, it works. Okay, chica?”

  I paused. This was another one of her things—always giving me tips on cooking this or that. But the cooking tips were really a cover for ‘the love tips.’

  I fluttered my eyes back. “Right, simmer it.”

  She let out a trigger of giggles. “Come on, chica, you need to loosen up, you and Sean could use some simmering. It would rev you up.”

  Christina was a beautician and took her calling to mean that she gave out lots of advice on hair, love, and cooking—in that order.

  “Luis seems nice for you.” I motioned to the spatula. “But I’m not simmering anything with Sean.” I snatched up a torn piece of tomatillo from the counter.

  She scrutinized my reaction. “More salt?”

  “No, it’s perfect.”

  Christina grinned. “You can’t keep eating the main dish.” She moved the plate of tomatillos. “We have company coming over.”

  I leveled her with a super glare. The fact I was anti-Christmas was a known fact. “I told you I didn’t want any parties this year. I have to get up at five-thirty tomorrow to get the store in shape.”

  After throwing her hip to the side and giving an exaggerated eye roll, Christina put her hand out in front of me. “Why do you hate Christmas?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t hate it. I just … don’t prefer it.”

  “I’ve known you for two years and haven’t seen a spark of Christmas spirit, it’s weird.”

  I sighed. “Let’s just say that I grew up in a town that went way overboard with Christmas and … I’ve just had enough.”

  She stirred the sauce. “Of the town or of Christmas?”

  I paused, not expecting the directness of the question. “I guess both.”

  She sprinkled a touch of salt into the sauce. “Hmm, so that’s why you work so much?”

  I sighed. “What can I say? I’m living the American dream.”

  “Until you take over the world?”

  I grinned. “You know I want my own store…then another store, and another.”

  The way Christina’s eyebrows furrowed, I knew she didn’t buy it. “Right, the path to success…”

  I played along, she was quoting me. “…is paved with hard work. Exactly.”

  Her very red lips sealed into a noncommittal line. “You will never be happy selling jewelry.”

  “Why?” I challenged back.

  “You are not making a difference.”

  “I’m helping with the most important events in life—marriage, anniversaries, birthdays.”

  “And you care about those events?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Okay, fine. I like selling things. I’ve always liked marketing and selling. It’s what I do.

  ” She had me on the defensive. “How do hairdressers make a difference?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “We counsel others. We make people beautiful. They feel better because of us.” She gave a soft smile. “We don’t just sell, sell, sell. You have to believe in something.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I believe in not having to struggle your whole life. But don’t worry, I’ll share with you.”

  She cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes. “So, I had this dream,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Oh, dear.” I moved away from the stove, not ready to indulge Christina in another round of ‘guess what the dream means.’ Her grandmother had taught her about the power of dreams and she would spend hours interpreting them.

  Her bracelets jiggled as she cut me off. “Madre Mia—it’s serious.”

  I stopped. The normal look of superiority on Christina’s face was gone, replaced by wide eyes and distress in the corner of her eyes.

  Annoyance stirred through me. “This better not have anything to do with Sean.”

  Instantly Christina jerked her head back and forth. “This is serious,” she said again.

  “Christina!” I had to hand it to her, her blatant fear made me unwillingly shiver. “Don’t do this to me.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Christina, what did you see?” I didn’t care, but I couldn’t shake this insane feeling.

  “Muerto.”

  “What?”

  Tears appeared in her eyeliner coated eyes. “I am sorry. I—I felt death. I—”

  All my patience fled. You didn’t mess with that word. “What do you mean? Am I dying?”

  She gulped back a swallow. “It’s not like that—it’s all symbols.” She put her shaky hand on my shoulder. “I—I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have this gift, but as you know with your natural gift to sell things, we get what the Lord gives us.”

  A nervous pulse went through me. “Tell me exactly what you saw.” It wasn’t that I put a lot of stock in her dreams, but I couldn’t discount the time I’d lost the key to the store and she’d dreamed that it was at the bottom of a swimming pool.

  The next day I’d found it in the filled kitchen sink, left overnight.

  She pressed her fingers into the side of her head and rubbed. “I don’t know.” It came out fast. “But I also saw love. I saw death and love. True love’s kiss on Christmas Eve. ” She exhaled like she’d run a marathon.

  Okay, now it had turned stupid. And typical of her. “Have you been watching Disney Princess movies, again?” I whirled away. “You almost had me.” This was also her thing—shocking me to keep me lively and vivid.

  She laughed nervously. “I’m not being a drama queen, I really saw something that freaked me out.”

  “Whatever,” I called over my shoulder and dropped my things onto my desk, promptly forgetting Christina’s dramatics.

  “Molly!” Christina called out. “Luis said Sean really likes you. He bought you a Christmas present. You will have dinner with us, won’t you?”

  I frowned. “Can I just eat in my room?”

  “No!”

  I traded my work clothes, black skirt and fancy top, for dark jeans and a snug, green sweater. Comfort clothes. I called out. “Fine, I’ll eat, but I should be running.”

  “You run too much.”

  I almost tripped on the cord that connected the lights from the tree to the outlet in the hall. I turned back. “I hate Christmas, by the way.”

  “Feliz Navidad.” Christina sang out to me.

  I roughly brushed out my red hair. It had an autumn color to it. Natural, but no
one ever thought it was. I’d had it in soft curls earlier, but the curls easily fell out, going back to my usual straight. It took a lot of product and an hour of curling to get the curls just right. I did reapply my make-up, wishing I wasn’t a slave to my stomach and could make a stand about this holiday fun we were about to have. I didn’t like to have my boycotting sabotaged.

  I worried. Christina and her ‘dream interpreting’ didn’t sit well with me.

  ***

  Two hours later, Luis and Christina sat on one side of me. They made out as ‘White Christmas’ played on the television.

  Sean lightly traced my shoulder and slid his hand down my arm. He paused.

  I pulled away from him. “Umm, I think I need to get to bed.” I stood and tried to avoid the hurt look in his eyes. It wasn’t his fault he was Luis’s sidekick and I didn’t like him as more than a friend. Honestly, he was a pretty nice guy, even if he had talked about the bonds and protein again all night.

  Christina murmured, “Night, Molly.” But didn’t break from her make out session.

  Sean stood too, flattening his tight t-shirt over his abs. “Yeah, I get that you have to get up early. Can I give you something?”

  I really didn’t have any desire to be mean to him. But, I didn’t want anything from him. Not to mention the fact I didn’t have a return present. Awkward. “S-sure.”

  He moved to the coat rack next to the door.

  I followed, ready to face the impending hurt when he realized I had nothing to give him in return.

  He unfolded a brown bag from his coat pocket and extracted a small box.

  I took a quick step back. No. No. No. This couldn’t be a ring. Nooo. There had been no kisses. Not even real hand holding. Nothing that would warrant a ring.