A Miracle Mountain Christmas

by Ciara Knight

  “It looks good,” Mason eyed their work.

  He waited for her to reach the lower rungs of the ladder before he held her by the waist, lifted her into the air, and lowered her to the floor. The strength of his hands hadn’t changed, despite working the last seven years at a desk job. “I guess you haven’t let yourself go soft.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Savannah forced her eyes away from his broad chest and turned her attention to the last remaining string of lights she needed to attach. “I’m going to have to patch all these holes the hooks are putting in the walls and ceiling.”

  “I’ll help. Besides, you still need to paint this room, right? And since when would a few holes in the wall stop Aunt Birdie from doing something like this?”

  Savannah laughed. “Never.”

  “I always admired her free spirit. The way she floats through life as if not having a care in the world. Have you ever seen her less than happy? All those years she held us together, and I never saw her falter once.”

  “I did,” Savannah muttered. Keeping her back to him, she turned the hook until it embedded deep into the wall.

  “When was that?”

  “When you left.” She hung the strand of lights on the hook then stood back to look at their hard work. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mason bow his head, pain etched in the lines of his face. “We grieved together,” she said quietly. “For you, and for my sister. It made us close. She became my family when everyone else abandoned me.” She knew her harsh words would only cause him more pain, but she refused to hold any punches. He needed to hear the truth. He needed to know just how much his leaving when they needed him most had affected them.

  Strong arms suddenly enveloped her from behind as Mason pulled her to him and held her tight to his chest. “I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to save you from further pain. I never meant to hurt you.” He turned her to face him then rested his forehead to hers. She wanted to lean into him, but she remained stiff in his arms, afraid to let any gaps form in her metaphorical fence again. “I guess Aunt Birdie was right. I am an idiot.”

  She closed her eyes and allowed her fingers to graze the tips of his soft hair, to feel the strength of him around her, and smell the richness of his cologne. All reminders of his empty promises.

  “What? No argument?”

  She lifted her head and stared into his eyes, their faces so close she smelled the cookies on his breath. “No. I’m not going to argue with Birdie. You are an idiot. Besides, I wouldn’t want to risk the wrath of the GGs.”

  He chuckled, the sound vibrating out from his chest and tickling her skin. “Smart woman. But then, you were always the smart one.” His hand trailed down her spine then back up to her neck, leaving a snow-melting firestorm behind. “Why didn’t you ever go away for college?”

  “Because I preferred local and online. I wasn’t like you. My passion for adventure consisted of exploring mountains, not navigating a big city. I drove to Riverbend University for some of my courses, and the rest of my business classes I did online.”

  His face tilted, bringing his lips to within inches of hers. When his mouth parted, her heart jackhammered against her ribs. It would be so easy to kiss him again, to let herself fall into all that was Mason Harrington. But he’d only leave again. She turned her head and slid from him. The two of them alone in the inn was making her uncomfortable. She glanced at her watch. “They’ve been gone a long time.” Cold invaded her, and she longed to fall back into Mason’s warm arms, but she settled for wrapping her own around herself.

  He went to the window and looked out. “Do you think it will take Herbie much longer to fix the filing issue?”

  “No. I’m assuming there is no filing issue. I wouldn’t be surprised if the GGs have something to do with this.” She turned in place to scan the room. “Let me see. No one is here but us. Your car’s still in a ditch—”

  “And no heat.” Mason rubbed his arms and eyed the parlor’s fireplace. “Not to mention the pile of blankets and pillows.”

  She followed his gaze to the stack of bedding conveniently piled on a chair by the fireplace. This was definitely the GGs doing. “I have my car around back. There’s no reason for you to suffer here another day because they think we belong together.”

  “Don’t we?” Mason stepped toward her, halting under the large chandelier strung with lights. “Belong together?”

  She cleared her throat, ignoring the strum of heat on her skin. “You belong in Chicago. I belong here. Listen, I’ll get you to town and, then I’m sure you can get someone to take you to the airport. At the very least you can get a tow truck to pull your car out of the ditch.”

  With a reluctance she didn’t want to admit, she crossed the room and retrieved her keys from her bag. Before she could straighten, the lights cut off, darkening the room. “What are you doing?”

  “I wanted to at least see the results of our hard work before you kicked me out.” The switch clicked, and the lights overhead sparkled with Christmas magic. She had to admit, it looked like Birdie had done it herself.

  “Fine, you’ve seen it. Now, let’s go before it gets any worse outside.”

  “Do you really think they didn’t fix your truck so it wouldn’t work? These are the GGs we’re talking about. They would have thought through every detail. If they want to keep us here, there’s no way we’re leaving except on foot.” Mason pointed toward the window. “And I don’t feel like going for a five-mile hike to town in that.”

  As she’d feared, the dark clouds overhead had made good on their promise, dumping large fluffy flakes over the mountainside. But even without the sudden blizzard, she realized he had a point. If the GGs went through enough trouble to push his car into a ditch, there was no way her truck would start. “You’re right.”

  Mason crumbled paper and tossed it into the fireplace, then stacked logs on the grate. “I’m always right.” He gave her that boyish, half-grin he’d perfected by the sixth grade. The one that had convinced her to sneak out when they were fourteen to go see a concert two towns over. It was worth being grounded for a month, though. That was the night he’d told her he loved her for the first time.

  She pointed at the stack of logs. “Apparently, you haven’t lost all of your woodsman skills.” He winked with knee-buckling effect, and it took her a moment to find her words again. “Unfortunately, the inspector found issues with the fireplaces and chimneys. We can’t light them until they’re fixed.”

  He scanned the room. “Well, looks like we’re having a sleepover then.”

  She remained upright, only because she happened to be standing next to the wall. “Um…what?”

  He kicked the remaining debris and tools out of the center of the room, scooting it against the wall. “Neither of us can sleep upstairs. We’ll freeze. We need body heat, or their little plan will backfire and they’ll find our frozen corpses in the morning.”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled, although her traitorous feet were already moving toward him.

  He tossed several pillows onto the floor in front of the fireplace, and piled a few thick blankets around before kicking off his destroyed dress shoes and crawling under the covers. He held up the corner and glanced back at her. “Don’t forget your coat. We can lay it over us, too.”

  She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, as if a bag full of nails had lodged in her throat. After a moment, she managed to push from the wall and lift her chin. “I see not much has changed. Same old moves.”

  “They work, don’t they?”

  Dang it. He was always right. “Okay, but not because your move worked. It’s just blasted cold.” It seemed extreme to go to such lengths just to force her and Mason together. But then again, if the GGs could shave, paint, and feather a goat, she wouldn’t put anything past them.

  She snagged her coat and tossed it at him, then sat on the edge of the pile of blankets and removed her work boots before scooting under the cove
rs by his side. Stiff, suspicious, and secretly wanting his arms around her, she snuggled down until her head rested on the pillows.

  He tucked her into his side as if it were the most natural thing, and rested his cheek on top of her head. “So, tell me why you think this place will succeed.”

  Based on her observations over the last two days, and what Aunt Birdie had told her, Mason had turned into one of those businessmen who only cared about facts. So, she’d give him the facts. “Based on the current bookings alone, you can see that it’s a sound investment. You might think there’s nothing for tourists to do in such a remote location, but not everyone is looking for action and excitement. People want a place where they can relax, where they can escape the pressure of their daily lives. The Miracle Mountain Inn provides that escape. Not to mention, there’s something romantic about the place. We already have several weddings booked, along with an anniversary celebration. It’s a place for new love and for rekindling old flames…” She hesitated, realizing her words and the situation she now found herself in. “I mean, for people looking for that.”

  His lips brushed her forehead. “Yes, for those looking for that. Go on.”

  Her body trembled despite the warmth around her. “Anyone can come here and enjoy the quiet serenity of the mountain. And this place is not just for couples it’ll be for people with kids, too. We’ll have family weekends filled with fun activities.”

  “Okay, so what sets this inn apart from all the ones in this area?”

  “Well, we’ll offer different things than the usual tourist attractions. Quiet, intimate adventures that you don’t have to share with fifty other people, like horseback riding, picnics, hiking with a back-to-nature feel. We can do guided hikes with them or let them explore on their own by providing maps of the local trail systems. They can even take a gourmet, home-cooked picnic lunch with them to enjoy at any of the beautiful spots along the ridge.”

  “It sounds like the logistics are all worked out, but the name… Why call it Miracle Mountain?”

  She leaned back, quirking an eyebrow at him. “It’s always been called that.”

  He raked his fingers through her hair and watched it fall into place as if analyzing every strand. “I know, but marketing wise, you need to sell the story.”

  “You know the myth.”

  “I’m not talking about the myth. Myths are interesting, but people don’t relate to them as well as they used to in the old days. No one will believe this mountain can create miracles just because of a myth about a man who’d lost everything down the side of the mountain only to find his lost love in the blue mist of the mountain.” Mason skooched away to face her. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t like the distance between them. “I work in marketing. I know the business. We need a modern-day miracle, a story about life and how it brings people together.” His gaze held hers. “What’s your idea of a miracle?”

  Chapter 10

  The inn became a massive walk-in freezer overnight due to the continued snowfall, plastic-covered second-floor windows, no heat, and high ceilings. Mason watched the meager flames dwindle down to almost nothing in the makeshift fireplace he’d made out of a metal bucket. The sun peaked through the clouds, shining into the room and spilling over Savannah’s beautiful, perfect skin.

  It was like he’d been thrust back in time to his teenage self, unable to sleep with the desire to make the night last forever. A night with Savannah in his arms. She cooed in her sleep like she always used to. Everything familiar, but exciting and new at the same time. His palms grew sweaty, yet his body shivered.

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the light floral scent. Not the same shampoo from their childhood, but a more grown-up version, the fruity aroma replaced by fresh flowers.

  She snuggled into his side, fitting to perfection. “Are you going to stalker-sniff my hair all day?”

  A zap of electricity shot through his arms, and he moved his face away from her hair. “Sorry. I was cold. And you smell good.”

  She didn’t move away. Instead, she wrapped her arm around his chest and pulled closer to him. Their bodies flush, he could feel the heat of her radiating through her flannel shirt.

  “What’s your answer, city slicker?”

  He gulped. “About what?”

  She sat up, leaning on her elbow, and play-slapped his chest with her other hand. “Don’t be stupid. You know what I’m talking about. And if you don’t, you need a refund on your fancy degree.”

  He’d already decided to help Aunt Birdie finance the inn, whether he could win Savannah or not, but he couldn’t give her his answer. Not until he knew hers. “Have you thought of a miracle yet?” He dared to sit up and slide his hand behind her neck. “If you could have a miracle, any miracle, what would it be?”

  Her lips parted, her eyes flashed, and her pulse thundered against his palm. “To have your money.”

  He leaned in closer, breathing slow and deep. His gaze fixed on her perfect, pink lips. “Is that all you want from me?”

  Her head turned slowly left then right. “I want you…”

  “I want you, too,” he breathed.

  “…to stop playing games and tell me what you’re going to do.” She threw the blanket from her body, shot up, and began pacing under the canopy of lights.

  He wouldn’t let her escape that easily. “What are you scared of, Savannah? Tell me the truth.”

  She collapsed onto the pile of blankets, shoved her feet into her boots then stood up and zipped her coat. “I’m not scared of anything, except losing this inn. It means a lot to everyone.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you the money.”

  She stopped halfway to the front door. “You will?”

  He shoved from the floor and waited for her to turn and face him before he’d answer. “If you come up with a good story about a miracle, then I’ll give the GGs the money. I’m a marketing person. I have to know what I’m marketing so I know how to sell it.”

  She took two long strides, stopping nose to nose with him. “There aren’t any modern-day miracles. They don’t exist. We both know that. If they did, then you wouldn’t have…” She straightened and took a step back.

  “I don’t know about that.” He grazed his thumb along her jaw line, enjoying the softness of her skin.

  “Then tell me one miracle you’ve witnessed,” she whispered but didn’t back away.

  His fingers moved to her bottom lip, brushing along the pink surface. Her breath whispered over his skin in short, quick bursts. “This.” Only for the briefest moment did his lips brush hers, but it was powerful. The floor tilted under his feet, the chandelier shimmered above with twinkling lights in a blur of Christmas magic. It took several heartbeats before he could speak. “Miracles are everywhere, Savannah. You just have to see and feel them. Open your heart, your mind, your soul.”

  She gasped then took another step back. “How is this a miracle? To me, it’s just a moment in time that will shatter me to pieces when it disappears. When you disappear.”

  Before he could say another word, she flew from the room and out the front door, but he saw it. The look in her eyes, the hope, wonderment, love.

  “Making progress, I see.” Aunt Birdie stepped into the room and removed one black glove with wispy feathers then the other before dropping them on the reception desk. With a wave of her arm, she spun around in a circle and smiled at the lights above. “Nice. I approve.”

  Mason forced a smile while trying to calm his buzzing pulse. “I don’t know how much progress I’m making. I feel like I’m stuck in the same place I’ve been the last seven years. She’s definitely as tough as I remember. And stubborn. And demanding…and beautiful.”

  Aunt Birdie picked up a blanket and folded it in half. “Just what you need. A challenge. I’m surprised you don’t have a girl back in Chicago like that. Certainly there’s someone back there who’s all those things.”

  His insides went applesauce-gushy, churning with blen
der speed. “No… I mean, yes, there are women like that, but none like Savannah. Trust me. I’ve looked. When I thought I’d lost her for good, I tried to move on, to let her go and spare us both the pain, but… And it’s more than those things. It’s her hair, her smile, her voice, her determination, her…her…” He thought for a moment, searching for the right words to express what was so special about Savannah. “That inexplicable beacon of light that I’m drawn to, been drawn to all my life. Like a lighthouse to a boat on stormy seas. She rattles and calms me at the same time. Excites and bewilders in the same breath.”

  “No wonder you’re such an idiot.” Cookie leaned against the hallway molding, her winter hat pushing her silver waves out like fins on each side of her head. The bright red hat was a stark contrast to her hair. Based on the gold embellishments along the brim, there was little doubt Sunny had knitted it for her. And he had no doubt Cookie only wore it to appease Sunny. “That girl’s got you twisted three ways from Sunday.”

  “I’m the idiot?” He pointed to her Pinocchio hat.

  “Shh. Sunny might hear you,” Aunt Birdie scolded.

  “Hear what?” Sunny floated in, wearing her own brightly colored hat, boots, and equally bright smile.

  “That Birdie’s idiot nephew needs to come up with a plan to woo Savannah back, and after all we did to help him, too.” Cookie took off the hat and plopped it down on one of the step ladder rungs.

  “Stop calling me an idiot.” Mason grabbed the blankets off the floor and tossed them into the corner, then the pillows.

  “What about that fancy job of yours?” Cookie plopped her gloves down with added gusto.

  “I can extend my vacation. I’ve actually never taken time off. And with the holidays, business is slow right now. We don’t do much during the week of Christmas since most of our work is for the weeks leading up to the holiday. So, I’ll stay and help out here.”

  “A week isn’t long enough to erase seven years of abandonment,” Cookie said.