by Dani Collins
Six months later…
Finn stared with incredulity and abject delight at the wooden bride and groom with the holes cut out where their faces ought to be.
The groom wore a tuxedo. His knobby hoofed arm was crooked around the bride’s neck and her veil was caught in his antler. The bride’s bouquet was under the tuft of hair beneath her chin. One flower had been pulled loose and poked toward the cutout.
“So it looks like she’s eating it,” Sarah said, moving behind the board and showing all her teeth in a huge, white smile. Her metal braces had been removed days ago on condition she wear her retainer every minute of every day—except when she smiled in his wedding photos, she had informed Finn.
“Dad said he would take it outside after the ceremony, so the guests can get a photo in it while they’re waiting for the reception to start. I thought you would laugh. Don’t you like it?” Sarah came back around, expression anxious.
“It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” He was genuinely touched by how much work this kid had gone to for them. “I’ll probably sleep with it tonight.”
“Pretty sure Kristen will have an opinion on that,” Sarah said with a big laugh.
“Pretty sure she will,” he agreed. “Thank you.” He hugged her into his side, careful not to mess up her carefully arranged hair with its copper-gold ringlets and flowers. “You’re growing,” he noted.
“Heels,” she said, stepping away to kick out one foot from beneath her bridesmaid gown. Even so, she was definitely taller and, dressed up like this, she was also showing signs of leaving girlhood behind for the young woman she was becoming.
Finn bit back a wistful sigh, but, with a bit of luck, he and Kristen would start their own family soon. After today, it was the only box they hadn’t ticked.
While he had finished out his residency, he had interviewed with the local clinic. One of their doctors planned to retire in the next few years and they were excited to have a new, young doctor on staff. Finn was starting there in a week, right after he and Kristen moved into the house she had found them.
They were settling where Kristen had found the perfect job for herself, one that would offer her the challenge and flexibility she had been craving when she’d come here last December.
“I wondered where you got to,” Carson said, coming into the sunroom.
All the doors were open and a light, summer breeze was lifting the curtains. The furniture that had been stored here through the winter had been set outside in the garden. Ushers were filling those seats as guests arrived.
“I ran up to say hi to my parents and tell my sister I got the groom to the church on time, then came down to find he’d disappeared,” Carson said.
Sarah had hustled Finn into this room on arrival, partly so he wasn’t caught up in socializing right before the ceremony, but also because she had been so eager to show him her creation.
“This is Sarah. Look what she made me.” Finn proudly waved his arm over the majesty of the moose cutouts.
“Too soon,” Carson said with a deadpan look at Finn. Then he cracked a smile at Sarah and said, “Actually, that’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you. Finally. Kristen raves about you. Would you mind introducing me to your dad? I met Wendy, but I’d like to say hello to Ted before we start.”
*
“Are you nervous?” Wendy asked, swaying as she rubbed Owen’s back, trying to coax a burb out of him in hopes he would be well fed and settled enough that she could hand him off to Ted for the duration of the ceremony—or at least as long as it took her to walk ahead of the bride as her maid of honor.
“I’m excited,” Kristen said. Her bouquet trembled a little as she held it before her and took a final inspection in the mirror. “Nervous about being the center of attention.”
“That’s how I felt! It’s one of the reasons Ted and I got married at the courthouse. I thought I’d feel too stressed planning a big wedding and awkward when we said our vows. Then… It’s really nice to have everyone you love be so happy for you. I’m really grateful you decided to come back here.”
Kristen and Finn had given serious consideration to having the wedding in their old hometown, but their hearts were already here. It was where she and Finn had found each other again and where they wanted to put down roots.
“Thank you for letting us get married here.” At a hugely discounted rate. Their wedding guests had bought out the place for the entire weekend. “And thank you for helping me plan this day and being so supportive all these months.” Kristen grew more and more emotional as she spoke.
She had stayed in close touch with Wendy after she left and even stopped here for a night on her way between visiting her parents and moving to Denver to be closer to Finn while he finished his residency.
Wendy’s pregnancy had been progressing well and things had been easier once their cat operator came back and Ted was on hand through the day. But she and Ted had quickly determined they would need full-time help once the baby arrived. Their dream manager for Mistletoe Chalet was Kristen, they had said, when they had coaxed Kristen and Finn to consider making their home in town.
Now Owen was here, Wendy still did some of the cooking and bookkeeping, but Kristen was listed on the website as the manager. She did everything in her power to keep the chalet sold out and running smoothly.
“Thanks for the cabin.” She and Finn were spending a couple of nights here, until they got possession of their house. A proper honeymoon would wait until the shoulder season, when Wendy wasn’t still nursing every two hours.
There was a knock at the door and Kristen’s mother came in. “The boys are telling me to take my seat. They’re getting into place. Are you ready?”
“I am, Mom. Thanks.” Kristen kissed her mom’s cheek and smiled as her dad and Ted came in.
“Wow. You clean up nice,” Ted said of Kristen’s A-line gown in matte satin. It was strapless. She had skipped the veil for a simple up-do with a few flowers.
“Thanks,” she said dryly. Ted had turned into a second brother and they were unafraid to tease each other with good-natured banter. “You look awful pretty yourself.”
“Thank you. I came to collect my bouquet.” He held out his hands for Owen, then asked warily, “How does he smell?”
“He’s clean, fed and mostly asleep. He should be okay for a little while,” Wendy said as she handed off their son with the blanket she had cuddled around him.
Owen gave a little mew of discontent at being shifted, then settled into Ted the moment his father crooned to him.
“You’re going to work on one of those for us, aren’t you?” Kristen’s dad asked, thumbing to where Ted disappeared.
“I can only do one thing at a time, Dad. Today, I thought—” She indicated her gown. “But Father knows best and if you think our priorities need to be reassessed, you go have The Talk with Finn.”
“I love you.” He chuckled and kissed her nose. “I’ve always disliked the expression ‘give your daughter away,’ because I couldn’t imagine doing it. But if I must do it, then I’m glad it’s to that Garrett boy.”
“That Garrett boy,” she repeated in a light scoff, poking at the lapel that barely contained the swell of pride in his chest. “You’ve been calling him that since we dated eight years ago. He’s Doctor Garrett to you.”
“He’s the turkey who broke our garage window with his football. But I suppose he’ll be ‘Son’ after today, won’t he?” He held out his arm.
Wendy opened the door so they could leave the king suite at the end of the hall. Finn’s sisters, Kristen’s bridesmaids, were waiting in the loft with Sarah. When they saw her, they all smiled with anticipation.
They trailed down to the sunroom. Finn was already outside and Sarah went onto the deck to wave at Finn’s aunt, who had brought her electric keyboard. The music stopped, everyone quieted, then she began to play, “Lucky,” chosen for the line about being lucky to be in love with ‘my best friend.’
Sarah
hung back, walking down after Finn’s sisters so she could hold the hand of Carson’s daughter, Sophie. The little girl’s tulle skirt stuck out like a ballerina’s and her shoes were shiny Mary Janes. At two and a half, she still forgot that things spilled if you held them upside down. The basket of rose petals upended as she reached for the rail when they started down the stairs.
“Uh-oh,” Sophie said, watching the petals drift down like pink snowflakes onto the grass behind the congregated guests.
Sarah looked back at Kristen with a panicked expression.
Kristen bit back her laugh and shrugged, silently telling Sarah the show had to go on.
Sarah kept hold of Sophie, ensuring she made it to the bottom safely, then murmured that they would clean up the petals later. She drew her down the grassy aisle to the arbor. It had been elegantly decorated in silver and white for today’s nuptials.
Kristen came to the rail overlooking the garden. She looked down at all the faces beaming up at her.
And saw Finn. Handsome, tender, steadfast Finn. The man she had always loved in a dozen different ways, but now cherished with every part of her heart. She knew him better than anyone. He knew all her dreams and disappointments, her heartaches and triumphs. He was her soul mate. Today, they were confirming in front of all the people they loved, that they would be life mates.
The first song finished and the intro notes of the next one started.
As she started down the stairs, her hand firmly gripped by her father in the crook of his arm, she heard the lyrics in her head. Wise men say…
Every step drew her closer to Finn until finally, she was right in front of him.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“So do you.”
They both chuckled. His eyes gleamed with emotion. Her throat was tight and her smile impossible to quell.
The celebrant began to speak, but Kristen barely heard him, she was so lost in the dreamy reality that she was marrying this man.
Finn took her hand. Vows were spoken and rings went on their fingers.
“You may kiss the bride…”
Finn’s warm hand cupped the side of her neck. She set her trembling fingers on his chest, reassured by the strength she found in him as she leaned on him.
His parted lips touched hers and their life together finally began.
The End
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Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from
His Christmas Miracle
Dani Collins
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Nicole Darren pulled her hatchback into the address on the outskirts of Marietta and let out a relieved breath. That drive through icy passes and swirling snowflakes had been a nightmare—and she had splurged on good snow tires.
Well, she had spent her father’s money on them, but she wouldn’t have arrived in one piece if she hadn’t. And she was going to pay him back.
Right after she landed this job.
With another cleansing breath, she tugged her hat onto her head, pulling hard enough to bring the pink-and-yellow tails under her chin, then tied them off. As she stepped outside, her nose pinched and her eyes watered, stung by the fierce, biting wind.
I missed you, too, Montana. Ugh. Maybe she should have waited until May to leave California.
After slamming her car door, she pocketed her keys, then zipped her consignment-store ski jacket, taking in the farmhouse as she started toward it. It was two stories with a single-story addition wrapped in a covered porch off to the left. The east side, maybe? She was terrible with directions, but she knew pretty when she saw it.
In the waning light of afternoon, surrounded by the blowing snow, the house looked surprisingly sweet. It was in good repair, obviously restored by loving hands that had a flair for “quaint”. She adored the bold eggplant with teal trim and yellow rails. On a sunny day, it would be bright and welcoming, making any passerby smile. There was even an old washtub next to the stairs, sleeping under a layer of snow, but with a few ice-coated, brown stalks poking through, promising to greet visitors with a riot of blooms come spring.
Delighted by the idea of working for someone with such a warm, artistic bend, she clomped up the steps, rang the bell, then looked for a broom to sweep her footprints.
The door opened and a man was backlit through the screen. She saw more silhouette than expression. He was tall and had wide, strapping shoulders beneath a white-and-blue striped button shirt. No hat, cowboy or otherwise. He wore a neatly trimmed beard the same color as his dark brown hair.
He did not look like he needed a nursing aide.
She smiled as if he were her new boss. “Am I at the right house? Are you Ryan Quincy? I’m Nicki Darren.”
“Quincy Ryan.” He started to push the screen toward her.
“I’m sorry.” She stepped back, then loosened her boots and stepped out of them, leaving them on the welcome mat as she entered. “I thought the recruitment site got it backward, and Ryan was your first name.”
“That happens a lot.” He didn’t smile. In fact, he was doing a great imitation of the arctic outflow wind that he locked outside as he closed the door behind her.
Now she was in the foyer and could properly see him, she realized he was really good looking. Her inner spinster warmed and fanned herself. The aspiring actress who had been around that many pretty boys for the last seven years said, Oh, please.
But he was really good looking. He was a head taller than she was, fit and trim with dark brown eyes, brows that were on the stern side, and a jaw that was wide enough to be strong. It was beautifully framed with stubble grown just long enough to make her want to touch his cheek, suspecting it was smooth, not scratchy. He was one of those quietly powerful types of men who were natural leaders because people couldn’t help but look up and defer to him.
At the same time, he gave off such an attitude of aloof superiority, she had to catch back an exasperated chuckle. She had left L.A. precisely to distance herself from this sort of arrogance, and to get back to being around real people who were nice to one another because it was the decent way to behave.
Do. Not. Blow. This.
“You have a beautiful home.” Compliments were always a good start, right? She tugged off her hat and flashed another friendly grin at him. Maybe her face hadn’t opened as many doors as she would have liked, but her smile usually prompted an answering one when she offered it.
“It’s not mine. My father grew up here and just bought it again. We had nothing to do with this.”
The jerk of his head disparaged the crown molding, the polished hardwood floors, and the glossy white wainscoting under cornflower-blue wallpaper with white polka dots. Each of the stair treads was carpeted in blue while the risers were painted white. She would bet any money the kitchen was buttercup yellow.
“I see.” She didn’t. She instantly loved everything about this house and wanted to tell him how lucky he was. She’d been sharing rooms with cockroaches and starving actors. She hadn’t had her own space in years, let alone anything so dollhouse perfect.
“I just drove in from California. That was a shock to the system.” She thumbed toward the window draped in white curtains held open with bands of blue. Outside, flakes continued to swirl in the dusk.
“It was like this in Philly. And all the way across.” He frowned as he led her into a living room where the furniture was off center on its area rug. Boxes were stacked
against the wall. In the empty, adjoining dining room, a gray modular desk was coming together, a handful of pieces still wrapped in shrink film. “We got in late last night. I thought your resume showed a Montana address?”
“My father’s place. One way or another, I was giving up my room in L.A. Since Glacier Creek is where I was born…” She shrugged as she removed her jacket and draped it across her thighs as she lowered to perch on the sofa across from him. “It’s where I’m headed if I don’t take a job elsewhere.”
She tried to make it sound like she had options other than this one.
He took the wingback, seeming to weigh her words. Did he think she was dishonest? Misrepresenting? Her palms began to sweat. She needed this job so bad.
A laptop stood open on the coffee table. Thankfully, there was only one file folder beside it, with her name on it.
Don’t send me crawling back to Glacier Creek. Please.
She had left anything that didn’t fit in her hatchback in California, then had barely slept in Utah, afraid her few remaining possessions would be stolen overnight, even though the couple she had found through a B&B app had assured her their neighborhood was very safe. She hadn’t detoured to stay with her father and stepmother on her way here either. Telling them she was back in Montana could wait until she had aced this interview. That was what she kept telling herself.
If she didn’t get the job, well, she could already hear her stepmother, Gloria, saying, “I told you so.”
“You didn’t list previous experience.” Quincy Ryan lifted his gaze from studying her file. He sounded skeptical. Looked dubious.
“I completed my certification earlier this year and did a practicum at an assisted-living home in Santa Monica. I was able to stay on at the facility a few extra months to cover for someone on leave. I’ve been working in the field all this time.”
She had to force herself not to blurt the words out too fast, but she was anxious to impress on him that she wasn’t completely green. Squishing her palms together between her knees, she fought to keep her voice measured and warm.
