Colorado Christmas Magic

by Caitlin McKenna

  “Which is a good thing. It wouldn’t be a saying if it weren’t true. Opposites attract.”

  “Until they realize they’re completely wrong for each other.”

  “You honestly think that?” Her voice climbed an octave higher as her mouth set in a grim line. “I thought we were good together. I had no idea you’ve been so miserable with me all these months.”

  Less than three months, he wanted to correct. “I never said I was miserable.”

  “I would certainly hope not.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window for several moments of uncomfortable silence. “I suggest we take things slow so we can figure it out.” But when he didn’t answer, her chin began to quiver. “You do want to get married eventually, don’t you?”

  He couldn’t give her the it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech, even though it was the truth. “I’m nowhere near thinking about marriage.”

  “So...what? That’s it?” Her big brown eyes welled with tears.

  Why did she have to cry? She made him feel like he was a callous, heartless jerk. He wasn’t and he didn’t want to be thought of in that way, even by a soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. “I’m not trying to upset you. We’re just too different. You need to be with someone who loves adventure and your friends and hanging out on social media. I’m not that guy.”

  She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her napkin. “You don’t have to be.”

  “But you want me to be, and that’s the problem. I just don’t see us compatible enough to make it work.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I think all you need to—” Lisa’s phone buzzed. She glared at it and frowned. “It’s my boss. I have to take this.” She walked outside with her call.

  He’d never had a girlfriend argue against a breakup. Maybe she could make his birthday worse after all.

  Chapter Four

  Early Tuesday morning, Charley dropped Clarence off at Liv’s, then dragged herself to LAX. She normally couldn’t live without checking her phone every five seconds, but after reading the steady stream of negative comments regarding her Christmas post, she welcomed the two-hour, no-phone flight to Denver. At least she’d managed to post a quick follow-up on her blog before she left. She explained to her readers that perhaps she’d been a little hasty in suggesting such a dramatic move as to skip Christmas, and in honor of her devoted fans, she was on her way to St. Nicholas, Colorado, where she hoped to find the Christmas spirit. She actually hoped to kill the Christmas spirit by debunking the Scrooge Legend, but she decided to keep that little bit of information to herself.

  Once Charley arrived in Denver, an affable man in his late forties greeted her at baggage claim.

  “Welcome, Ms. Dawson. I’m Fred, and I’ll be your driver today.” Fred had a genuine smile and his silver-tipped hair stuck out from under a wool cap.

  “Nice to meet you, Fred.” She gestured to carousel five. “I think that’s where we’ll find my bags.”

  He snagged a luggage cart and closely followed after her. “Are you planning on skiing or doing a little snowboarding while you’re here?”

  “Not this time.” Or ever, if I can help it.

  “That’s too bad.” He frowned. “We have the best resorts around.”

  “I imagine you do.” She pleasantly smiled, knowing she’d never step foot in one.

  “I see you came from Los Angeles. How do you like living out there?”

  “I love it. I just left seventy-degree weather.” She sighed.

  “That hot, huh?” Fred let out a slow whistle. “I bet it’s hard to get into the Christmas season when it’s beach weather.”

  That’s why I love it, she wanted to say. “We make the best of it,” she replied, and he nodded sympathetically.

  “Oh, that one’s mine.” Charley pointed to a cluster of black bags. “With the red and green ribbons attached to the handle.”

  Fred grabbed it before the bag traveled around again. “Smart to put ribbon on your luggage for easy identification.” He touched the Christmas-themed ribbon. “I see you’re getting into the Christmas spirit.”

  “I am,” she fibbed. She had plenty of ribbon on hand because eGift cards never required wrapping. “There’s the last bag.” She motioned to a black garment bag flying her decorative ribbons.

  He plucked it from the carousel and placed it on the cart. “Good to go, Ms. Dawson?”

  “Lead the way.”

  She immediately regretted coming to Colorado when she stepped out the airport doors and was hit with freezing temperatures. “Oh!” She threw on the parka she’d bought the night before and zipped it up to her ears. She wrapped a scarf around her throat and was in the process of slipping on her gloves when Fred stopped in front of a red SUV and popped the trunk.

  “Here we are.” He opened the back door to let her in before loading her luggage. “There’s water in the cup holders and snacks back there as well. Help yourself.”

  She got settled in and promptly turned on her phone. It pinged so many times with all the incoming messages that it sounded like an old-fashioned pinball machine. She hastily scanned the comments, relieved to see that her Christmas post addendum had smoothed at least some of her readers’ ruffled feathers. The first dozen comments were good-hearted and sweet in nature, but as she continued to read, she came across a lot of snarky ones. One woman wrote that Charley shouldn’t return until she found the Christmas spirit. Another said she hoped her time away would put her in a better mood.

  Don’t hold your breath.

  Fred opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He buckled up, then glanced at Charley in the rearview mirror. “Got everything you need?”

  A ticket to Tahiti would be good. “Yes, thank you.” She flicked him a glance before immersing herself in her blog. She couldn’t leave it in its present condition.

  “We have a two-hour drive to St. Nicholas, but the scenery is a must-see.”

  “Great,” she halfheartedly mumbled, already diving into work.

  * * *

  After Jack spent a few hours online researching St. Nicholas, his gut told him Captain Wollin was making too much of his brother’s new outlook on life. The town was a tourist destination that promoted the Christmas spirit all year long. Their very livelihood depended on folks having a great experience. Luke’s cheery disposition was probably nothing more than the result of a relaxing vacation.

  Jack grabbed his jacket, then did a quick check around his condo before heading out the door. He had mixed feelings about going to St. Nicholas. He wanted to get out of town now that he had broken up with Lisa, but going to a place that was nothing but Christmas would only remind him of his uncle. After all the years that had passed, it still pained him to enjoy the season without him.

  As he threw his bag into the back of his SUV, his cell rang. “Hey, Cap. What’s up?”

  “Got a call from the B&B,” he said. “Someone double-booked your room, but I managed to get you into the one where Tony Braca stayed.”

  “Two different B&Bs are giving away free nights?” Jack’s voice raised in surprise.

  “Looks that way. I didn’t realize that until I talked to Braca’s wife last night. The scam appears bigger than I suspected.”

  Jack eyed his one bag, wondering if a week’s worth of clothing would be enough. “No problem. I’ll check them all out if I have to. Text me the new address, and I’ll keep you posted.”

  Jack disconnected, now second-guessing his initial feeling about St. Nicholas. How could small-town B&Bs afford to be giving away free weeks to anyone? He could understand hotels doing it by targeting people as potential timeshare holders, but these were independently owned and operated B&Bs. And why would they want to give a free week to the likes of Luke and Braca? He was missing something.

  Jack hopped in his SUV and got on the road. Not five minutes later, his cell ran
g again. When he saw that it was Lisa, he ignored it. Their breakup had taken three hours last night. He’d never experienced anything like it. She spent most of the time telling him how great a guy he was, followed by her opinion on how opposites work better long term than those who are similar. Not convinced, he was finally able to end it by promising to remain friends, but he was already regretting that decision. After two more rings, she hung up.

  He settled back, cracked open a bottled water, and took a swig. He never imagined turning thirty would make him feel so unsatisfied with his life. Worse, it felt empty. No girlfriend, no cat, no dog. Not even a fish in a bowl. Would he be one of those guys who remained single because he never fell in love?

  That wasn’t entirely true. He’d fallen in love once, way back in high school. Now, years later, he hadn’t experienced anything close to what he had shared with Charley, and he didn’t know why. He’d had years to figure it out and failed. He couldn’t even pretend to enjoy being in a relationship, as evidenced by ending yet another one.

  He felt bad about hurting Lisa and wondered if his buried feelings for Charley had affected him more than he realized. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d given Lisa mixed signals, so every time he pushed her away, she’d try harder. He should have broken up with her a month ago when he knew it wasn’t going to work. Did this mean that no relationship was ever going to work because he couldn’t let go of screwing up the only love relationship that had meaning? How he wished for a redo with Charley, but too much time had passed for that to ever be a reality.

  Chapter Five

  During the long drive to St. Nicholas, Charley hadn’t taken in the scenic view once. She was so annoyed by all the harsh comments left on her blog, she felt she needed to explain her position, her correct position, addressing each and every one of them. Only when the car began to slow had she finally afforded a glance out the window.

  Fred was turning off the main highway and onto a heavily forested winding road. Thinking she was getting close to her final destination, she set her phone aside. She needed to pay attention to the town she’d be investigating. Being from Los Angeles, she knew a thing or two about the movie industry and its movie magic. It wouldn’t be the first time she discovered that a legend was a manufactured hoax.

  Fred drove past a road sign that read:

  WELCOME TO ST. NICHOLAS

  BELIEVERS: 12,123

  Charley laughed.

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “First time to St. Nicholas?”

  “And last,” she said with conviction, catching his eye. “I’m not a fan of cold weather.”

  “Well, this place will keep you warm, mark my words.”

  Fred put his focus back on the road, and Charley’s thoughts wandered on to the Scrooge Legend. When and how had it begun, and why was it named after Ebenezer Scrooge? She hadn’t been able to find much about the legend’s origins online, which was fine. The most reliable information would come from the town of St. Nicholas itself. She’d start by conducting interviews with the townspeople. She’d also go to their historical society or library to comb through any articles related to the legend, and then she’d draw the line between fact and fiction for her readers—facts always winning—and the ridiculous Scrooge Legend would be debunked.

  It seemed like a fairly easy, straightforward job—especially when the legend’s assertion happened to be a wild one. To claim that any Scrooge entering the town would have a change of heart was truly laughable. Most likely the townspeople put on a good show for strangers in order to keep the money flowing in. It was a jaded theory, but it was the most realistic.

  Charley studied Fred through the rearview mirror. He came across as a jovial, carefree man, the type who would know a thing or two about the legend. “I take it you’ve been to St. Nicholas a few times.”

  “I bring people here all year round. It’s a popular destination.”

  “Have you heard about their Scrooge Legend?”

  “Oh, sure.” He nodded. “Who hasn’t?”

  “Any truth to it?”

  “All truth. That’s why it’s legendary.”

  She squelched a laugh and averted her gaze out the window. She couldn’t wait to debunk it.

  Fred slowly turned onto Main Street, and Charley, slack-jawed, could only stare in astonishment. Before her lay a winter wonderland of beauty. Blanketing the entire town was a layer of freshly fallen snow sparkling like tiny diamonds in the late afternoon sun. Quaint decorated storefronts lined equally festive streets. Wreaths, garland, and silver bells hung from every door, awning, and lamppost. There was a huge town square with meandering paths, park benches, stunning snow-covered pines, and in the center of the square stood a breathtaking sixty-foot Christmas tree.

  “Wow. It’s like a picture postcard.”

  “Yes, it is,” Fred said with satisfaction.

  She remained glued to the window, unable to peel her eyes away. Everywhere she looked, there appeared to be such a strong sense of family. She felt like they had driven into a nostalgic Christmas card or a Norman Rockwell painting. A little girl on her daddy’s shoulders hung a Christmas ornament on the town tree. Farther down, three little kids lay on the ground, making snow angels, with their golden retriever wagging his tail and barking at them. Beside the kids, a family of four was building a lopsided snowman.

  On the other side of the street, two women smiled and pointed at items on display in a shop window. College kids wearing University of Denver sweatshirts loaded ski equipment into their SUV. A middle-aged couple held hands while strolling down the sidewalk, and a group of friends laughed as they entered a tiny café.

  Her gaze bounced from one side of the street to the other, and then back again. Teenagers were throwing snowballs by the clock tower. In the distance, a horse-drawn carriage was going over a snow-covered bridge, and below that were ice skaters on a frozen pond.

  “This is so beautiful,” she said, her voice breathy, taking in all the cute stores, the inviting cafés and not one chain or brand name among them. She saw more smiles and greetings in a minute than she’d seen in a month back home. No one was on a phone or seemed to be in a hurry. No car honked, nobody yelled, nothing intruded on the peace that imbued St. Nicholas. The town was so charming and picturesque it didn’t seem real.

  At the end of Main Street, Fred turned right and drove over the little covered bridge. A bubble of delight rose inside Charley. On the pond below, a few of the ice skaters were wobbly and holding hands while others skated with grace and ease. A small hut situated near the pond had a line of people in front of it. A sign above the door read Hot Cocoa.

  Once over the bridge, Fred drove her through a heavily wooded residential neighborhood where every house and every yard displayed massive amounts of Christmas decorations. Charley couldn’t wait to see it all lit up at night.

  Two more turns, and Fred pulled the car up to a beautiful two-story home nestled in a circle of grand snow-covered pines. A Santa and his sleigh sat off to one side with reindeer, elves, and a big sack of presents. Illuminated oversize candy canes lined the walkway. Poinsettias adorned the front stoop. Garland and fairy lights wrapped the porch railing, and wreaths and candles sat in every window of the Carroll Inn.

  Charley zipped up her coat, then threw on her hat, scarf, and gloves while Fred retrieved her bags from the trunk. When she finally stepped out of the car, only her eyes remained exposed.

  The front door opened and an older couple emerged. Her first impression was that they truly looked like they belonged together. They both had salt-and-pepper hair and the same healthy roundness that came from great home-cooked meals. They wore matching red-and-green Christmas sweaters and had an easy air about them. The man placed a hand on his wife’s back and whispered a few words, making her laugh, which revealed cute dimples in her cheeks. The strong bond they shared was clearly visible.

  “You must b
e Charley,” the woman exclaimed, all smiles, hurrying down the front steps to greet her, as if she were her own daughter coming home for Christmas. “Welcome.”

  Charley lowered her scarf, revealing a big smile that had taken over her face. “Thank you.”

  “Good to see you folks again,” Fred said, setting down Charley’s bags.

  “Afternoon, Fred,” the woman replied. “Thanks for delivering our guest safely.”

  “Until next time.” He tipped his hat to her, then peered at Charley. “I hope you enjoy St. Nicholas, Ms. Dawson.”

  “Thank you, Fred.” She paid him a generous tip before she turned back to her hosts.

  “I’m Mary Carroll, and this is my husband, Joe.” The bright-eyed woman gestured to the man standing next to her.

  “Nice to meet you both.” Charley peered up at the house. “It’s so beautiful here.” She reached for her bags but Joe beat her to them.

  “Don’t you dare lift those. I’ll get them.” Joe had a lovable grandpa quality about him that made her want to hug him.

  “Come on in,” Mary said, and led the way.

  Once inside, Charley couldn’t seem to take it all in as she stood in the foyer. Christmas was everywhere. To the left was a long sideboard decorated with several sparkling Christmas cards, a crystal bowl filled with Christmas candy, and two tall vases full of colorfully stacked Christmas balls. To the right was an exquisite handmade eighteen-piece nativity set including the Three Wise Men’s jeweled camels, a shepherd’s sheep, and the shining Star of Bethlehem hanging above the manger. Straight ahead was the home’s showpiece, a gorgeous ten-foot Christmas tree trimmed so impeccably that it could have been on the cover of a magazine.

  Charley deeply inhaled the pleasant fragrance of pine. “You have a lovely home.” She slipped off her gloves and began unwinding the long scarf wrapped around her neck.