“The Cold Hard Facts Queen in me wants to deny giving props to this town entirely. After all, it’s really you who has made me think clearer, but we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the legend.”
“I’ve made you think clearer?”
She nodded. “Spending time with you—being present, really listening—you’ve helped me see things differently,” she said. “I mean, just tonight, as I was getting us coffee, I saw a teenage couple sitting by the window, and I—” She suddenly let out a small gasp as a revelation washed over her. She stared at Jack, then out the window, then back at him again.
“What is it?” He gave her a look of concern.
“I’ve just realized something.” She locked her gaze on him. “My issue with Christmas goes back much farther than Hunter.”
His brows raised. “To what?”
“Not what, but who,” she slowly said, astonished that she hadn’t made the connection before. “To the first guy who left me at Christmas.”
“Another jerk?” He sounded incensed. “Who is this guy?”
“You.” She met his gaze with total clarity. “It was you, Jack. I’ve actually had four guys leave me at Christmas, and you were the first one.”
“Me?” Jack looked like he’d been slapped. “No. I didn’t leave you. I mean, I guess I did, but that wasn’t my choice. My dad got transferred out of state.”
“I know you had to move when your family did. I’m talking about the way it all went down.” She drew in a deep breath. “I remember standing on the edge of your family’s driveway as we were trying to say goodbye to each other. The moving van had just pulled away, and your family’s car was all packed up. Your mom and dad were sitting in the front seat, waiting for you, anxious to get on the road. I remember the quick, embarrassed kiss you gave me, knowing your parents were watching. I remember how I tried to tell you how much I loved you, but you were distracted—so I rushed my goodbye and I’ve regretted it ever since.”
“You remember all that?”
“Every detail. I remember how we promised we’d talk every day, but we didn’t. I called you, and it would take you three days to get back to me. It wasn’t long before it took five days, and then ten.”
“Charley, I had planned to keep our relationship going, I truly had, but we were kids. I was trying to adjust to a new school, a new neighborhood—”
“With new friends and a new girlfriend. I get it.” Her sudden bitterness sliced through the air unintentionally.
“We were sixteen. A long-distance relationship is hard on anyone, let alone teenagers.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been upset with you for years, but tonight you helped me see things differently, and I now realize that my anger was misplaced. I should have been angry at the situation, not you. Like you said, we were young. Back then, all I felt was that you’d been taken from me, and you didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, Charlotte.” Jack put his arm around her, pulling her to him.
The tenderness in the way he spoke her name made her eyes well with tears. “I used to lie awake at night wondering why you had shut me out. I wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t moved. Would we have stayed together?”
He intertwined his fingers with hers. “This might be hard to believe, but I did the same thing. I resented my dad for making me move. For months, I wouldn’t talk to him. Then he started coming home from work early, and he’d throw the football around with me and talk about my future. It would make me feel guilty.” Jack took a big breath in and let it out. “For the record, I do think we would have stayed together. I loved you very much, Charlotte. That’s what made it so hard to let go.”
She sat up, turning toward him. “I wish you had told me that before you left. Then we would have had a proper goodbye.”
“Maybe I didn’t because I never wanted it to be over.” He stared into her eyes and she started to fall. Every fiber of her being was trying to resist falling for him again. The way he spoke to her, the way he held her, and those eyes of his were like unrelenting drills, creating hairline fractures, trying to split open the powerful dam holding back her feelings for so long. All he had to do was kiss her and the dam would burst wide open.
Jack cupped her face in his hands, staring into her eyes. He leaned closer to kiss her and—
Jingle bells filled the car. A split second later, a deafening screech had Charley covering her ears with her hands, and Jack scrambling to turn down the volume on his phone.
They bolted out of the car and raced to the mailbox.
“The flag’s down!” She put her hands on top of her head and spun around, certain she’d see the culprit running away.
“No.” Jack jerked his flashlight in all directions, trying to catch any movement within the trees. “Oh, come on!”
Charley ran in one direction, Jack in the other, searching for the mail collector. She was certain one of them would see him. No one could have run away that fast.
She made her way back to the mailbox at the same time Jack reappeared, still shining his flashlight over the immediate area.
“I swear I’m bringing in a bloodhound next,” he said through gritted teeth.
Charley suppressed a laugh at that thought. She suddenly found herself secretly rooting for the bandit mailman. If he wasn’t caught, they’d have to continue with their investigation.
Jack bent down and ran his hand under the mailbox. “The bug’s gone.” He shot up, fury building in his eyes. “You heard it, right, the jingle bells?”
“Yes. A few seconds before that ear-piercing screech.”
“It was feedback on the microphone. Someone is definitely messing with us.” He threw light over the base of the mailbox, examining boot imprints left on the hard-packed snow.
The guy was long gone but she kept glancing around for Jack’s sake. “I can’t believe this has happened again.”
He paced, clenching his fists. “How do we get this guy?” He then froze, jerking his head up before meeting Charley’s eye. “Are you up for another stakeout?”
“Sure, but shouldn’t we figure out how to outsmart him first?”
“I just did, and tomorrow night he’s mine.”
Chapter Nineteen
He almost kissed me. She entered her room, sliding off her coat. And I almost let him. Their conversation had been so intense that she thought it might scare him away, but it didn’t. He already asked her to dinner for the following night, and, of course, she said yes. A bit of insecurity caused her to wonder why he hadn’t asked her to breakfast. Though she supposed Jack would be busy in the morning, rigging up something even more spectacular for tomorrow night’s mail collector’s capture.
She sat on the end of the bed, pulling off her boots, as her mind filled with Jack. He was such an amazing listener, which she found so rare in the guys she had dated, and his advice seemed right on target. He was confident, caring, gorgeous, and a true gentleman. Chivalry was very much a part of him, and she found that extremely attractive.
If their relationship were to keep moving in a serious direction, the big issue they faced was the same one that had broken them up in high school. They lived in different states, which meant one of them would have to move, one would need to compromise. Why were her love relationships always complicated? She pushed that thought away, choosing to immerse herself in the lighthearted feeling she had missed for so long. She sat at her computer, pulled up her blog, and started typing.
Hi All,
As I mentioned in my last post, I’m in St. Nicholas, Colorado, currently investigating the Scrooge Legend, which claims that any Scrooge—yours truly—who enters the town will end up loving Christmas as much as Santa. I’ve been here for a few days now, and I have to admit that there’s something to the Scrooge Legend. There’s a mysterious mailbox in the center of town where names of suggested Scrooges are deposited
. No one has ever seen who collects the mail.
Although I can’t yet declare myself a full-on Christmas enthusiast, this town has my attention. Aside from the mailbox, this place is downright gorgeous. Every bit of it is adorned with beautiful Christmas decorations, and the residents are incredibly welcoming, including my B&B hosts who make me feel right at home. I even went ice-skating. Stay tuned. This Scrooge might catch the Christmas spirit yet.
She smiled and hit Post. “I think I already have, dear readers, but you don’t need to know that quite yet.”
With a satisfied sigh, she sat back and glanced at the mantel. “Arthur?” She bolted out of her chair in search of the missing mouse. “Arthur, where’d you go?”
She moved the throw pillows, checked under the bed. She poked her head in the bathroom, rummaged through the armoire drawers, opened the closet, and inspected the floor. No Arthur. There was only one place left to look. She snapped opened the curtains and found him sitting on the bench under the window.
“There you are! How did you get over here?” She curled up with him on the window seat, straightening out his jacket. “Did you talk to Santa for me?”
Arthur didn’t react. She snagged her phone off the table and showed the stuffed mouse a picture of Jack.
“What do you think?” She studied his photo. “I was wrong to have been angry with him for so long. He’s turned out to be a pretty great guy. We almost kissed tonight, but were interrupted.” She let out a long sigh. “Oh, Arthur, what am I doing? We live in different states.”
She eyed the mouse. “I know, I know. I kind of let him into my heart again and that terrifies me. What if I’m not reading him right? What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do him?” She played with the tiny bells on his vest. “You think he does? Yes, I know he’s gorgeous with a killer smile. And those eyes can melt anyone. But no, I can’t trust him completely until I know how he feels for sure, so don’t try talking me into it.”
She got up and set him back on the mantel. “Okay, fine. I’ll think about it. Good night, Arthur.” She hopped in bed, thinking fondly of Jack, and finally fell asleep.
* * *
When something happens once, it isn’t a big deal; when something happens twice, it can become one. Jack thought back on his uncle’s saying. It had been another sleepless night because he couldn’t get Charley out of his head. Uncle Bill’s saying was true. Charley had become a very big deal.
Last night, when they’d returned from their second stakeout, Jack immediately checked her blog. He couldn’t confirm Reality Check’s true identity, but who else could it be besides the trucker? Luckily, R.C. hadn’t posted another comment. That was the good news. The bad news was Jack tracked the email account to the North Pole.
“Not possible!” He was incensed just thinking about it. He threw back the covers and marched into the bathroom where he flipped on the light and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. He’d always been good at his job because he left his emotions out of his investigations. Now all he could think about were his emotions. For Charley.
He spread shaving cream over his face and took a razor to his skin. What would his life look like in five years? In ten? Would he still be a detective in Denver? Would he be single? In a relationship? Would he be with Charley? He thought back on the night before and how vulnerable she’d been—how she had trusted him enough to open up to him. He hated to think how much pain he had caused her, and how that pain had negatively affected her love life.
After he moved away, he soon realized that missing her as much as he did wasn’t going to get him back to Los Angeles, no more than missing his uncle was going to bring him back to his family. Their high school long-distance romance had been a no-win situation that only prolonged their inevitable heartache. At the time, he’d thought letting the relationship fall apart was probably the least painful way to end it. He’d assumed his actions would make her angry enough to forget about him so that she could find love again and be happy. For him, he had never stopped loving her, and he’d hoped that somehow they would find each other again.
By six-thirty Jack was headed downstairs. He wanted to spend the day with Charley, but he needed to set up an indiscernible trap for the elusive mail collector. Knowing breakfast wasn’t served until seven, he poured himself a cup of coffee and thought about how he could pull it off. He wanted to impress Charley with his new idea. If she had thought the audio surveillance was cool, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction to what he was cooking up for tonight.
With coffee in hand, he stepped out on the front porch and noticed he wasn’t the only early riser. Joe and the handyman, Mike, were setting up an animated display of Christmas carolers in the front yard.
Joe plugged it in, then took a step back and scratched his head. “I don’t know, Mike. Mary will love how the carolers move as they sing, that’s a given, but no one’s going to see them in the dark.”
Mike glanced at the walkway, then at the carolers, as if he were noting the distance between the two. “What we need are motion sensor lights that will illuminate the display whenever anyone approaches.”
“That’s a great idea,” Joe said.
“Yes, it is.” Jack stared up at the trees.
“Morning, Jack.” Joe greeted him with his usual friendly smile. “Can I help you with something?”
He couldn’t believe his luck. He just might be able to get some help and question Mike without him knowing it. “As a matter of fact, you can.”
After Jack pitched in to help with the lights on the carolers, the men grabbed some breakfast together. Jack explained what he wanted to accomplish with the mailbox, and it seemed as if Joe and Mike were more excited about it than he was. That was fine with him. Whatever got the job done.
By eight-thirty, the men were hard at work by the mailbox in the town square. The area was covered with ladders, drills, hammers, motion sensor floodlights and a vast array of extension cords. Several curious residents stopped to ask what they were up to, and Joe’s answer remained vague—saying their undertaking was part of the upcoming Christmas festival. Still, their high visibility started to worry Jack. Would it tip off his stealth mail collector? Would someone from the town hall tell them to stop what they were doing?
“Are you sure we don’t need a permit for this?” he asked Joe for a second time.
“Positive. I’m on the town council.” Joe handed a light up to Mike. “This falls under assistance with the Scrooge Legend. As long as it doesn’t impede walkways, roadways, or destroy public property, we’re good.”
Jack unwound another extension cord and began threading it through tree branches, attempting to conceal it along the way. “Everyone here in St. Nicholas really keeps the Scrooge Legend alive.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Joe said. “Every Scrooge story has a happy ending.”
Mike seemed a little quiet. “What about you, Mike? Do you believe in the Scrooge Legend?”
“No reason not to,” he replied, climbing two more steps up the ladder to set a light on a sturdy tree branch. “I’ve always been curious about the mailbox, and I’d like to know who’s collecting the mail as much as you.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“It’ll be two years this Christmas.” Mike tied down the light to the branch and angled it toward the mailbox.
“It was perfect timing when Mike showed up,” Joe said, handing Mike an extension cord. “Our town’s three best handymen retired at the same time. I don’t know what Mary and I would have done without him. There isn’t anything Mike can’t fix.”
“I believe it.” Jack smiled. “He fixed my shower yesterday.”
Joe cast an eye on Mike, looking very disappointed. “I thought I fixed that leak.”
Mike laughed. “What do I keep telling you, Joe?”
“Leave it to the expert, I know, I know.”
“How did you come to St. Nicholas?” Jack glanced at Mike as he pulled out another floodlight from its box and got it ready to hand off. “Were you invited like my friend Charley?”
“No.” He came down off the ladder. “I was passing through town and there was something so darn familiar and homey about this place that I ended up staying.”
“I can see why you would,” Jack said. “What did your family think of that?”
Mike suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “Oh...uh.” He quickly broke eye contact with Jack and stared at his watch. “Hey, you know, I just realized I’m due at the Sweeneys’ house. I promised Ian I’d help him install a new dishwasher today.”
Joe tested out the light and it worked. “We got this, Mike. Thanks for your help.”
“Yes, much appreciated.” Jack pulled out his wallet. “What do I owe you?”
“You put that away.” Mike waved him off as he grabbed his tool box. “Happy to help. Good luck tonight.”
Jack watched Mike take off in a hurry. “Was it something I said?”
Joe took over for Mike, repositioning the ladder under the tree on the opposite side of the mailbox before Jack handed him another light. “Mike is one of the nicest guys you’ll ever know, but he’s had a tough time of it.”
“How so?”
“He almost died twenty years ago.”
Jack got instant chills. “Are you serious?”
Joe descended the ladder and grabbed a swig of bottled water.
“What happened?” Jack asked, joining him.
“He got hit by a car in New York City. When he was admitted into the hospital, the staff didn’t find any identification on him. He was in a coma, listed as a John Doe, for over a month. When he came to, he couldn’t remember who he was or where he lived. His doctor told him he had suffered a brain injury and that the amnesia could be permanent. The local news stations picked up his story and ran it every night for a week, but no one came forward. He didn’t want to be known as John Doe, so he chose Mike Hodges for his name.”
Colorado Christmas Magic Page 14