The Sleigh Bells Chalet: A Small Town Romance (Christmas House Romances Book 2)

by Jennifer Griffith

  Always from Mom.

  A pair of women bustled out of the chocolate shop, laughing raucously. They bumped right into Ellery, shoving her against Bing’s chest. She put up the palms of her hands to stop herself, and ended up grabbing onto his shoulders.

  Whoa, those shoulders filled out the whole breadth of his coat.

  “Excuse me,” a chocolate shopper said to Ellery at the same moment Ellery said to Bing, “Excuse me.”

  Bing’s leathery scent wafted in among the hot cocoa and the smoke from the local chimneys. No, Ellery took it back. This was what heaven would smell like.

  She’d really like to get there.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back. “Like I was saying, I should let you two get on your way.”

  “And”—Freya’s gaze flip-flopped between Bing’s face and Ellery’s—“I’m sure you have errands you’re busy with.”

  “Thank you for walking with us a bit.” Bing’s jaw clenched and his temple pulsed. “You be careful around the bank, now, you hear?”

  Ellery met his eyes. There was no hint of pity in his gaze. Smoke, yes. Deep, dark cocoa, yes. Something else afire, yes.

  Something inside her ignited.

  And he wasn’t married. Looking into his eyes wasn’t a sin. Heaven might be a fraction less unattainable, it would seem.

  Other than the fact she shouldn’t be looking at a guest with any kind of romantic interest. Speaking of ethics!

  Ellery turned up the next side street toward the bookshops. She had to get her blizzard-like thoughts under control. Walk. Walk faster.

  Nope, it was no good. A swirling storm of Bing Whitmore fell in frozen fractals all around her—credit to the Disney movie Frozen’s lyricists for the metaphor. Everywhere she looked, his face reflected up at her.

  “And so I was telling JoAnn.” One of the cocoa shop bumping women loomed up half a pace in front of Ellery. “JoAnn, I said—”

  Ellery barely slowed her pace in time to avoid ramming her in some accidental retribution.

  Cocoa Woman took no notice, just blared on with her conversation. “We come all this way to Wilder River, and we can’t even get a sleigh ride or carriage ride through the town? It’s a blazing Christmas candelabra of disappointment if ever I encountered one. And do you know what JoAnn said?”

  “What?” Cocoa Woman Two asked, possibly less horrified by the lack of sleigh ride than her friend was. “Did she freak out?”

  “No, she yanked out her phone and started an internet search. How do I find the king or whatever of the Chamber of Commerce of this place? I’m voicing my complaint right now, she shouted!”

  Cocoa Woman One’s cackle at her own joke might not have been the catalyst for the break-off of the icicle directly overhead, but as it landed in a snow bank half a foot from Ellery’s boot, it might as well have been a lightning bolt striking.

  Sleigh rides. Yeah. Sleigh rides. With horses, and bells, and—

  A hundred ideas bloomed in Ellery’s brain at once, like a Christmas cactus in the sunlight of the windowsill of her mind. Possibly much faster than prudence permitted.

  Much like her next words.

  “Ladies?” Ellery caught back up to the women, who had moved on and were about to enter Barley Oats Bookshop. “Excuse me. I overheard your conversation.”

  “You’re the girl with the hot boyfriend.” Cocoa Woman Two grinned, lifting one wry brow. “If you get tired of him, let me know. He’s hotter than that mug of steaming hot chocolate that left my tongue scarred for a week.”

  “He’s not my—” No, that wasn’t the topic right now. “About the sleigh ride. Or carriage ride, or whatever. I overheard your conversation. There is one. It’s just taking bookings right now, but it runs on weekends. Can I take your names and put you in the schedule?”

  She certainly could. Both of the Cocoa Women booked romantic rides two weekends out for themselves and their husbands, who, they said, weren’t nearly as hot as Bing, but would do in a pinch.

  “Great. Pickup is at the Bells Chalet. There’s a deep discount for hotel guests.”

  “Bells Chalet? Shouldn’t that be Sleigh Bells Chalet?” The cackling woman let loose, and two icicles fell.

  Lightning bolts again.

  Ellery thanked the women with an impromptu hug and a Merry Christmas. Then she literally ran all the way back to the hotel, barely avoiding slipping on ice.

  “Guys!” she hollered. Great, now who needed the course in professionalism? Oh, who cared? “Mom! Kit! Lenny! Guys!”

  They gathered. She spewed the entire plan to them. Well, at least the sketch of an idea she’d thought through so far. “What do you think?”

  They liked it. Yes!

  Sleigh Bells Chalet! It made perfect marketing sense. Much more marketing sense than the Southwest-theme décor and the dark purple walls in the lobby.

  “I knew you’d come back with inspiration,” Kit said. “I’ve got that fabric stash I told you about. We can Christmas-ify the lobby and all the bedspreads and throw pillows in the rooms.”

  “I gots paint out in the shed.” Lenny aimed a thumb out toward his caretaker quarters. “You want I should paint the whole place white instead of this purple? Dark purple makes me think of bruises. And prunes.”

  “You have enough white paint?”

  “Pops was always saying we was going to do the insides white, so I bought a lotta cans. I was just waiting on orders to start.”

  “You’ve got them.”

  Kit was already on the ground, prying up the edges of the faded carpet. “Yup. Hardwood underneath. That’s what’s to love about old buildings. When your Grandpa Bell bought it and renovated it in the seventies, the place was already fifty years old. He updated plumbing and electrical, but covered the floors.”

  And painted.

  Deep purple.

  “I know a guy with an electric sander. Big one. We can borrow it, I’ll bet.” Kit got out more than Ellery, which meant that unlike Ellery, she knew people outside the small sphere of this hotel. “This is going to be so amazing. And it won’t feel like a crypt in here.”

  Crypt was an apt description. Ugh.

  They’d need a pardon our dust sign to post. Not that there were many guests besides Bing and Freya to read it.

  “What about a carriage? You don’t happen to also know a guy with a carriage?” Ellery knew it was too much to hope.

  That was the biggest kink in her plans. The most foolish element.

  “If Kit doesn’t, I do,” Mom said.

  “Mom? Really?” Mom for the win!

  “Sure. My Uncle Wilbur always had one up in Pinetop. We probably only need to ask. Aunt Gilda won’t be wanting it now that Uncle Wilbur has passed on. She doesn’t like horses. More of a bingo night type of aunt, if you know what I mean.”

  Ellery knew Aunt Gilda—and her winnings pile from her time at the tables. “Could you call her? See what she thinks?”

  Mom could. She went over to the desk to use the main phone to make the call.

  Oh, man. Two weeks from now, she’d be the owner and proprietor of the newly, grandly opening Sleigh Bells Chalet, complete with weekend horse-drawn carriage rides and a renovated lobby, if not totally redone rooms.

  “But—sweetheart.” Mom put down the phone receiver in its cradle without dialing. “I can call Aunt Gilda, sure as you’re born. But …”

  “But what? Do you think one of their kids took the carriage already?”

  “No, no. It’s not that.”

  “Then what, Mom?” Please don’t say Ellery needed a husband for this project. “It’s vital to the survival of this hotel that we do something drastic—and immediate. This is my best idea, and the most economical. We’ve run through all the money I borrowed from Allard Allman at the bank. It would be like squeezing blood from a turnip to get it back from us now.”

  Not that she wanted Allard Allman squeezing anything near her, let alone her person.

  “No, honey. It’s—you don’t
know how to work with horses. It takes a long time to learn.”

  “Then I’ll find someone who does and hire them to help us.”

  Mom, Lenny, and Kit all side-eyed each other.

  “What? You don’t think someone in this area with horse knowledge is in need of a job? Seriously? We’re a horse community if ever there was one. Wilder River might as well be the featured music video for ‘Home on the Range.’” There were seriously that many horsemen and horsewomen around. “We host three rodeos in the summer, don’t forget.”

  “Maybe, but”—Mom winced—“you don’t have any horses. Uncle Wilbur’s were sold a long time ago. You don’t have the first clue about how to even choose a team to pull a carriage.”

  Oh.

  What kind of an un-chewable chunk of chocolate had she just bitten off?

  “Then I’ll find someone who does.”

  Bing

  “How’s your ankle?” Freya might as well have had that question on one of those two-second video loops teenagers watched online while their brains rotted. “You ready to ski yet?”

  “Let’s just keep in mind whose bright idea it was to fill the entire bed of my pickup truck with luggage and who insisted I jump out over the side once it was all on the ground.”

  “Nobody made you jump. You were showing off.”

  “For you?” The two of them passed the fountain in the Wilder River town plaza. It wasn’t running. It wouldn’t be, not at these temperatures. But the lure of the hot cocoa scent from yesterday had Freya on a mission to return to downtown for breakfast. “No one else was around to see my daring feat.”

  “But, I’ll bet all the presents under the tree, you wish a certain someone had been there to see it, had it ended in triumph instead of tragedy.”

  The chocolate shop was just across the street now. They paused in front of the town newspaper office to wait for a break in traffic.

  “You are the least subtle matchmaker in the history of pushy cousins.”

  “You aren’t denying that Ellery Hart is an attractive woman, though, are you?”

  Why should he deny it? When she’d collided into his chest yesterday, that was the closest he’d been to an attractive woman in ages. His chemistry switch had flipped from the permanently-off position to full-speed-ahead the second her hands clamped down on his biceps. And she had the silkiest chestnut hair he’d seen since Rose Red’s. Not that he was comparing that woman to a horse.

  Okay, he was ridiculous. He could admit that.

  “Look, she’s pretty. But she’s not interested in me. I’m a guest at her hotel.” And Bing had a lot of emotional baggage to sort through before he’d be ready to worry about even making small talk with a woman, even a gorgeous one with deep brown eyes. More baggage than Freya had brought on this trip. “And I’m a deeply troubled person.”

  “There you go, living your life via the movies again.”

  “It’s just as telling that you recognize the references.”

  “Ha! Not hardly as telling. I’m not the one spewing the lava of the lines from Love is a Volcano. You are.” Freya smirked as the light turned red. “At least it wasn’t a musical this time.”

  “Should have been. That movie would make a great musical. Or at least a stage production.”

  “What movie?” a woman’s voice asked.

  Bing turned to look. Speak of the angel, and she appeared. “Hey, if it isn’t our host.” The door to the newspaper office swung shut behind Ellery. “Getting a sneak peek of the local headlines?” He pointed up at the sign for the Wilder River Rover above them.

  “Just placing an ad.”

  “Advertising is smart,” Freya said as they scooted out of the way of the front door of the office. “And don’t think I’m being critical, but does it make sense? I found your hotel in an online search. How effective is it to advertise the hotel to locals?”

  “Here she goes again.” Bing pulled Ellery’s elbow slightly, tugging her away from Freya. Into her ear he spoke sotto voce. “What did I tell you? She’s forever giving the worst, meddling advice. She thinks because she has a doctorate in psychology that means she knows every twist and turn of the human mind—and all about hotel advertising.”

  “Bing! You can dial that snark down about three levels, thank you, very much.”

  Bing ignored Freya’s protest. Ellery’s shampoo infused his senses at this proximity. He nudged closer. “Don’t let her uninformed opinions influence you. I’m sure you know what’s best for your business.”

  Ellery laughed. It was the first time one of his jokes had hit a mark in a while. Her laugh was a rise and fall of birdsong. “Are you two in a constant war?”

  They both shrugged. “Possibly,” Bing said. “If so, I am the clear winner of every battle.”

  “To put your mind at ease, Freya, no. I didn’t buy a newspaper ad. A full-on ad campaign isn’t exactly in the budget.” She looked at her fingernails, the clean ones. Sans paint. “I was putting a hiring listing in the classifieds.”

  She looked worried. Yeah, he should have guessed the hotel might have a financial struggle going on.

  “Hiring more help for the hotel?” he pried, even though he probably shouldn’t. If she couldn’t buy ads, how could she hire someone? Well, she knew her business.

  Okay, maybe she didn’t. The hotel and its parking lot had not filled up by a single room or vehicle since yesterday that Bing could detect. Maybe the Bells Chalet’s appeal for being quiet stemmed from its being totally empty. Probably not good for the bottom line. Shouldn’t it be full this time of year? The streets were full of jalopies, skis, and poles strapped to the roll bars or out the back windows.

  “Hey, I’m freezing. I’m going to catch this crosswalk light,” Freya said, aiming a thumb across the street. “I’ll just be meeting with a client online while I’m in the cocoa shop. Might take an hour. Come find me when you’re done visiting, ’kay?”

  “Fine.” Bing shook his head. Sneaky, unsubtle matchmaker. “That’s good, right? Hiring new people is a sign of business going well, right?”

  “I hope so.” Her lower lip tugged to one side. “If I can’t find someone in the next few days, I’m going to be in a world of hurt.”

  “What kind of someone?” Bing stepped out of the way of a passing tangle of shoppers loaded with bags. He pulled Ellery aside, too. They were now in the little alcove of the entrance to the newspaper office, out of the wind. She stood close enough he could see a tiny chip in her right incisor. Otherwise, she had exceptionally nice teeth.

  Oh, man. Was he assessing a woman based on the quality of her teeth?

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I have a long time. I’m on vacation, you know.”

  Ellery’s eyes narrowed at him. She opened and then shut her mouth. Finally she said, “Would you like a guided tour of Wilder River?”

  “Personally guided?” If Ellery Hart was his guide, then obviously, that was a yes. “Only if it’s a walking tour. I’m trying to strengthen my ankle.”

  “That’s the only kind our company offers, so you’re in luck.” Ellery didn’t ask about how exactly he’d hurt his ankle, praise the stars above. “Would you like to see uptown or downtown?”

  “Which one takes longer?”

  “Downtown.”

  “Then I’ll take downtown.”

  “Since it’s the same fee for both, that’s a good choice. You’re a man who likes to get his money’s worth.”

  “Yes, I do.” And he had, when it came to horses in the Whitmore Stables. He’d bought and sold enough thoroughbreds in the past five years to make an exceptionally healthy profit for himself and all the Whitmore owners. “What’s the fee?”

  “There’s a cost to everything, you know. The cost of this tour is you have to listen to my fictional histories for every place we walk past.”

  “Sold.” Nothing he’d like more. “What’s this coming up on our left?” They approached a standalone building with pillars and steep steps. />
  “That’s the courthouse. The outlaw Jimmy Bilgewater was hanged right here on the steps for rustling bison out of Judge Carnahan’s herd about thirty years ago.”

  “Thirty, eh?”

  “Did I say thirty? I meant three.”

  “I can’t believe that wasn’t a social media sensation.”

  “Right? Well, small town events hardly ever make news outside the area.” Ellery led him on through the narrow streets and alleyways of Wilder River. Every little place with any kind of unique architecture, she piped up with a crazy story. “And this here?”

  Like a model on a game show waving to a contestant’s new car prize, Ellery paused in front of a small green door.

  “What about it?”

  “It’s the Green Door of Destiny. A direct portal to Disneyland. Saves tons on travel time down the coast.”

  “And on parking, I’ll bet.”

  “Those parking fees are getting out of hand.”

  “Don’t tell any of the other tourists. Some of them might quit skiing and head straight to the Magic Kingdom. The Wilder River economy needs their income.”

  “Your town’s secret is safe with me.” Bing pantomimed the zip-lip and the locking key. “I’m great with secrets.”

  “Oh, yeah? Me, too. Got any to share?” She lifted a brow over a twinkling eye.

  No, he didn’t. “Just the best-kept secret in the world: buy low, sell high.”

  “Genius!” Ellery didn’t seem disappointed he hadn’t taken her bait to open up to her.

  A tiny part of him kicked him in the shin for missing the moment. She’d get my struggle, the shin-kicker chided. Mostly because I’m pretty sure she’s got enough of her own problems that she won’t sit around judging me for mine.

  Whatever. He wasn’t going to tell her about Snow White. Or Rose Red. Or his cowardly flight of emotional burnout from Grandpa’s legacy at Whitmore Stables.

  “You never answered me about your classified ad.” They’d come fully around the business area and were walking back up the main street. Newberg’s Chocolate Shop might spew Freya forth at any moment. “What type of employee do you have to hire in the next few days—or else?”