by Deb Kastner
“These last few weeks have been awful for me. I didn’t know where you went after your Kickfire shoot. I assumed it was back to rodeo. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, but it does matter. Because I love you, and I love Stella, and I can’t imagine my life without you two in it.”
“So, just to clarify, that’s a yes, then? From you, and not just the character you’re playing?”
“Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent yes.”
With that, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him the way she’d wanted to kiss him since the moment she realized she was in love with him.
“Um, excuse me,” came Jo’s voice from somewhere in the distance.
Heat rushed to Alyssa’s face as she realized they had an audience—a big audience.
“That’s by far the most unusual version of the nativity I’ve ever had the privilege of seeing,” Jo said with a throaty cackle, “but I think I can safely say God is looking down and smiling on you two. No—make that three.”
The churchgoers around them broke into applause. Alyssa’s blush flamed even hotter, but Cash just took her hand and bowed as if he was taking a curtain call.
“Thank you very much. If you would like to use us in future theater productions, you can find us at our family store, Emerson’s Hardware.”
That appeared to appease the crowd, and in another couple of minutes, they were left alone.
“We need to go change out of our costumes and get ready for the midnight service,” Alyssa reminded him.
“Right. Oh, and did I tell you I got a sponsor? I went to my first AA meeting the other night, now that I don’t have to worry about my public image. Frank Spencer took me on, if you can believe it. If anyone can keep me on the straight and narrow, it’s Frank.”
“I didn’t even know he was an alcoholic.”
“I think that’s how he likes it. But he’s stepped up for me in a big way.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Yes. But not as wonderful as you agreeing to be my wife. Say it again, just for me.”
“I said it just for you the first time.”
“Yes, I know, but we had an audience. Humor me.”
Stella wailed, and Cash picked her up, cradling her in his arm. “I guess we still have a small audience.”
Alyssa chuckled and placed her palms on his scruffy cheeks, holding his gaze with hers.
“Cash Coble, there is nothing in the world I’d like more than to marry you, to be your wife and Stella’s mama.”
“Now, that’s more like it, sweetheart. Come here and kiss me, the Future Mrs. Coble. We have a lot of living to do.”
* * * * *
Don’t miss the latest heartwarming stories
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The Cowboy’s Twins
Mistletoe Daddy
The Cowboy’s Baby Blessing
And Cowboy Makes Three
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Mistletoe Twins by Lois Richer.
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Dear Reader,
What fun it is to head back into Serendipity, Texas and auction off yet another bachelor for the town’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction benefiting the senior center.
It’s amazing how one second can change everything. For Cash Coble, the death of his best friend Aaron imploded his world. For Alyssa Emerson, her dear brother Aaron’s death broke apart her family. It’s only when the two of them connect and support each other that they learn to move forward.
No matter what the situation, the one cornerstone we can always count on is Jesus. He never moves but is right beside us all the way. Sometimes it’s harder to see and feel Him there with us, but the Bible assures us we can always count on His divine love and mercy.
I’m always delighted to hear from you, dear readers, and I love to connect socially. You can find my website at www.debkastnerbooks.com, where I hope you’ll join my mailing list to learn of new projects and special offers. Come join me on Facebook at Debkastnerbooks, and you can catch me on Twitter @debkastner.
Please know that I pray for each and every one of you daily.
Love courageously,
Deb
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Mistletoe Twins
by Lois Richer
Chapter One
“Are we there yet?”
“Yes. This is The Haven.” Adele Parker pulled up in front of the big stone house set in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies and heaved a sigh of pure happiness. “We’re home.”
“Can we get out now?” In the back seat Francie nudged her brother, Franklyn, awake. “I’m tired of riding in this car.”
“Me, too,” agreed her four-year-old twin, with a yawn. “Tired.”
“It was a long drive from Edmonton.” Adele twisted to smile at the pair, treasuring the way their little faces came alive with interest at their first view of this place she loved. “Let’s get out but zip your jackets first. The mountain winds will be chilly.” Not wanting to arrive home disheveled, she checked her makeup, patted her curls, then thrust her arms into her own coat before exiting the car.
“Hey, where’s the snow?” Francie looked around, obviously disappointed.
“An’ where’s the ski hill you tole us ’bout?” Franklyn frowned. “This is a desert, like in that story you read us.”
“Franklyn, that’s not true,” Adele scolded. “Deserts don’t have all those green spruce trees, do they? Anyway, it’s barely October. It’s not time for winter yet. But don’t worry, snow will come.” She smothered a chuckle at their glum looks, then hunkered down beside Franklyn and pointed north. “The ski slopes at Jasper are about an hour away. In those mountains. Maybe we’ll go there one day, hmm?”
“Okay.” Usually biddable, Franklyn assessed The Haven. “It’s a very big house. And it is, too, made of stone. Francie said it wasn’t,” he confided to Adele.
“I won’t ever lie to you, Franklyn.” A thrill whispered through Adele at the trust in his dark eyes. Trust in her.
“It’s kinda like the castle in Beauty and the Beast.” Francie leaned back so far Adele worried she’d topple backward. “Is it cold in there, Delly?” Their nickname for Adele brought back fond memories of her own youth at The Haven.
“No. It’s warm and friendly and the best place on earth.” It’s home. “C’mon. I’ll show you.” G
rasping each child’s hand, she led them to the side of the house, in through the back door and into her favorite room, the kitchen.
“Adele!” Her aunties—Margaret and Tillie Spenser—sat at the massive kitchen table having tea, just as Adele had expected. Tillie was pouring while Aunt Margaret snuck a wafer from the stack on a plate.
“We didn’t hear you arrive.” Margaret jumped up and hugged her so tightly Adele could barely breathe—and she loved it. “We’re so glad you’ve come home, dear.”
“Thank you. I’m so glad to be here.” She should have come back right after her breakup with Rafe, Adele mused as Tillie’s embrace followed, just as tight, just as welcome.
The elderly women bent to study the twins. “Who have we here?” Tillie asked.
“I’m Francie. An’ this is my brother, Franklyn, an’ that’s Delly—”
“They already know me, sweetie.” Adele helped the children shed their coats. “These are my foster aunties.” She introduced them.
“How come you have—” Francie paused in her usual litany of questions when someone rapped on the door.
“This is a busy place.” Tillie hurried to welcome their guest. “Mac, dear! I didn’t know you were home.”
Adele whirled around, thrilled to see the man who’d been her best friend since the day she’d arrived at The Haven with her three foster sisters more than twelve years ago.
“Mac McDowell!” She hurried forward and wrapped him in a hug. Her heart dropped when her very best friend eased away a little too quickly. That was when she noticed how his coat sleeve hung empty from the elbow down. She gulped and refocused. “It’s good to see you, Mac.”
“Good to see you too, Delly.” Mac’s easy smile flashed. Then he stepped around her to greet Tillie and Margaret.
“Hey, you said Delly.” Franklyn studied him curiously. “That’s our name for Adele.”
“It was mine before it was yours.” In a quick sleight of hand Mac, who’d always adored kids, produced two candies from behind their necks that he then offered to them.
Adele introduced the twins, then asked, “How did you know I was home, Mac?”
“I didn’t. Dad sent me to talk to your sister. He says Victoria wants our stables to offer a trail ride business.” He shrugged. A wry smile played with his lips. “Dad doesn’t think the Double M can handle it, mostly I think because he feels overwhelmed by the ranch these days. But apparently she’s been insistent so he wants me to refuse her. I’m guessing Victoria’s still very, uh, strong-minded?”
“We call it determined,” Margaret agreed, eyes dancing. “That’s why we’re happy to have her running The Haven for us—”
“I’m sorry, Mac,” Tillie interrupted her sister. “You’ve missed her. Things have changed around here. Victoria is married now, to Ben Adams. They’ve adopted Ben’s nephew Mikey and they have a daughter, baby Grace.”
“Yes, and today, while Mikey’s at school,” Margaret continued, “Victoria, Ben and Grace are spending some family time together in Chokecherry Hollow.” She smiled. “They won’t be back from town till after school. But please join us for tea. Or coffee, if you prefer.”
“Thank you.” Looking somewhat confused by all the information, Mac shrugged out of his sheepskin coat and hung it on a peg by the door. “I’d love some coffee.”
As she’d done a hundred times before, Adele automatically pulled the coffee canister from the fridge and started the brewer. She also made fresh tea for the aunties and, at their request, but a little hesitantly, selected two china teacups and saucers for the twins.
Adele deliberately waited until everyone was seated at the table and the aunts were busily engaged in explanations to the twins about the proper way to drink their tea-flavored milk from fancy china.
Under the cover of their conversation she murmured, “Want to tell me what happened with your arm, Mac?”
“Lost half of it after I crashed my plane. I didn’t think the ground was quite so close. Some test pilot, huh?” The indifferent shrug and quirky lopsided grin that had been Mackenzie McDowell’s trademark since the day he’d pulled Adele’s hair in fourth grade now lifted the corner of his mouth. “Since everything below my elbow was amputated I can’t fly anymore.” He shrugged in apparent nonchalance. “I need to figure out a new way to earn my living.”
That was typical Mac. Play down his pain and suffering. Except Adele could see fine white lines at the edges of his glacial-green eyes and etched deep around his mobile lips. She knew he still suffered. She also noted that he gave few details about his accident. Because he was still in pain or because he’d done something wrong? She wanted to hear the whole story, but she’d wait until he was ready to tell her.
“I’m very sorry,” she whispered as she squeezed his hand.
“Thanks.” Mac immediately withdrew his hand. “Oh, wait.” He rose and walked to the door. He leaned out to grab something and returned with a handful of bedraggled and grubby—what?
“Uh, thanks. I think.” Adele accepted his offering gingerly. “What are they?”
“No clue, but Mom said your aunts could use them.” Mac made a face but this time he wasn’t pretending. Adele knew all about his mother’s propensity for inventing recipes to use what most people considered weeds. “Herbs?” he suggested.
Not like any herbs I’ve ever seen.
“Maybe.” Adele studied the stalks dubiously. “I’ll set them on the window ledge until we’re ready to use them.” Which will be never.
Gingerly she laid the bundle down, recalling a long-ago potluck at Chokecherry Hollow’s First Avenue Church, a white-steepled building in the little Alberta town five miles away. The entire membership had become ill from eating Mrs. McDowell’s “open range” salad.
Not going to happen in my kitchen. When she lifted her head, Mac was studying her with a look that said he knew she hadn’t a clue what the stalks were for.
“Don’t tell your mom I didn’t recognize her herbs, okay?” Adele begged. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Or you’ll make up some crazy name for them like you did for that science experiment we did in Mr. Burnder’s sixth grade class. Esponsidonia, wasn’t that what you called that oozing pink gunk that spilled out of our volcano?” He tilted his handsome head to one side and asked, “How come you were the only one who didn’t get spattered by it?”
“Because I moved out of the way.” She blushed when he hooted with laughter.
“Oh, the times I tried to get some dirt on you.” Mac shook his head, his smile lingering. “Never seemed to work. Two seconds later you were back to polished perfection, even then.”
“I like clean and tidy,” she defended.
“I know, kiddo.” Mac’s empathetic smile said explanations weren’t needed. He’d never needed them; he always seemed to understand her. “So what are you making for dinner tonight, Chef Adele?”
“I—um, don’t know. I didn’t intend to—er, start cooking until tomorrow.” Why was she bumbling? She’d known Mac for eons. They’d been besties all through school and never once had she felt awkward, so why now? “How’s your coffee?”
“I haven’t tasted it yet.” Mac thrust his gleaming black cowboy boots in front of him then glanced from the cup to her before wrinkling his nose. “It’s not made with tree roots or something, is it?”
“Just coffee, mountain grown,” she assured him, chuckling as he took a timid sip. “See?”
“Excellent. As usual.” Mac grinned. “By the way, I believe all coffee’s mountain grown.”
“Except your mother’s.” Adele burst out laughing when he rolled his eyes, just as she’d expected.
Mac was always fun. She’d missed him, missed this. Sharing, laughing, friendship. The connection they’d had—Adele had never managed to find that bond with another man, though she’d certainly tried. She’d dated men
from her church, even become engaged to Rafe, which turned out to be a colossal mistake when she finally realized they were miles apart when it came to goals and aspirations. Now she realized she’d never found the same bond with Rafe as she’d always known with Mac.
If only she’d fallen in love with someone like her best friend.
Adele pushed away the silly thought. As if there was anyone else out there like Mac. She smiled when the twins burst into laughter at Aunt Tillie’s comment. A deep sense of fulfillment settled inside her at this return to The Haven. The familiar kitchen, the orderly row of cooking tools she’d long ago coaxed the aunties to buy, memories of the savory smells she’d always loved to create—she’d done the right thing in quitting her job and bringing the twins to The Haven. They deserved a home and she was going to give these two orphans just that. Contrary to Rafe’s criticism, she could be a single mom, and she would do it without him. Wasn’t that what God wanted?
“Delly, can we go with these aunties?” Francie jerked her arm to get her attention. “They gots some ’puter games.”
“Aunt Margaret certainly does have lots of fun games. Go ahead and behave. I’ll be here if you need me.” She patted the little girl’s shoulder and smiled encouragement at her less boisterous brother. When they’d left, she faced Mac. “So?”
“You tell me,” he said, one sandy eyebrow quirked upward. “How is it to be home again? For good?”
* * *
Mac watched Adele’s face, confused by the—how to describe it?—lack of sparkle in those amber eyes.
“I’m home for a while and it feels very good. I’m fostering those two sweethearts.” Adele glanced at the retreating twins and then at him, but there was hesitation as she explained, “And I’m considering adoption.” He couldn’t quite decipher her expression.
“Your fiancé wants that?” Mac sipped his coffee while trying not to show his dismay. He’d always supported Delly. That wasn’t going to change.
“I don’t have one.” Adele grimaced. “I told you a long time ago that I was never going to marry and repeat my parents’ disasters.”
