A Mistletoe Christmas: Santa's Mistletoe MistakeA Merry Little WeddingMistletoe Magic

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A Mistletoe Christmas: Santa's Mistletoe MistakeA Merry Little WeddingMistletoe Magic Page 2

by Carla Cassidy


  There would be no time for loneliness in the next week. There was so much going on in the town, events and fun that she and Libby intended to immerse themselves in. There were sing-alongs and tours of the local mistletoe ranches, a night of caroling and of course a visit with Santa.

  She glanced at her watch and realized it was time for her to load her packages into the car and head out to pick up Libby. She took a last drink of the yummy hot toddy and then pulled on her coat, grabbed her shopping bags and hurried toward her car, which was parked in front of Carrie’s Christmas Shop.

  Within minutes she was on her way to Laura and Jack McKinny’s house on Mistletoe Lane. Their daughter, Megan, not only took dance lessons at the studio, but she and Libby had become best friends.

  Mistletoe Lane was decked out for the season with bunches of mistletoe hanging from every streetlamp, along with trailing red ribbons. White sparkling lights created a lovely shimmer on the whole street.

  Laura greeted her at her front door with a warm hug. “Did you get finished with what you needed?” she asked.

  “Santa shopping all done,” Melody replied. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping Libby busy so I could get out alone.”

  “No problem. Want to stick around for a cup of coffee?” Laura asked.

  “Rain check?” Melody replied. “To be honest, I’m exhausted and ready to get home and settled in.”

  “Then, next time,” Laura replied with a friendly smile. She was one of the first women Melody had made friends with when they’d moved here. Laura was a teacher at the grade school and her husband worked at the bank.

  She took a couple of steps down the hallway. “Libby, your mom is here.” Girlie groans filled the air.

  “That sounds like her ‘not so happy to see me’ noise,” Melody said.

  Laura laughed. “They’re at that age.” She rolled her eyes.

  Libby came running up the hall, her long dark pigtails bouncing with each step. “Mom, my princess doll was just about to meet her prince.” Blond-haired Megan ran just behind Libby.

  “I guess she’ll have to wait until another time to meet her prince. It’s time for us to head home. Now, what do you say to Ms. Laura and Megan?”

  “Thank you for having me over. I had a super time,” Libby said. “And maybe Megan can come over real soon and we can play at my house.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Laura said as she handed Libby her coat.

  “Thanks again,” Melody said, and then she and Libby headed to their car.

  “I had such fun,” Libby said as she buckled her seat belt. “We played games and then got out all of Megan’s fashion doll stuff. She has a ton of it.”

  “I’m glad you had a good time. Did you eat dinner?”

  “We had mac and cheese and hot dogs. Megan is my best friend ever. We’ve decided we’re going to get married on the same day and we’ll buy houses next to each other and our husbands will be best friends, too.”

  As Libby continued to chatter, Melody found her thoughts drifting back to the unexpected dinner with Jake. Why had he decided to join her?

  She hadn’t been averse to his company, and he certainly hadn’t been hard to look at from across the table, but it seemed out of character from what she’d heard about him.

  She had to confess that she’d entertained a silly crush on him since the moment she’d first seen him. But she’d decided when Seth died that there would be no more cowboys in her life. If she ever decided to marry again it would be to a lawyer or a banker who didn’t work with horses that could kick them in the head and kill them.

  Libby was still talking about her time with Megan when they arrived home. Home was a nice little ranch house with three bedrooms, an airy kitchen and a living room.

  She’d used most of Seth’s life-insurance money to build the dance studio on the back of the house, knowing that teaching dancing was what she knew and was what would put food on the table and keep the lights on.

  There was also a small barn complete with running water and several hay bales that Melody had bought a month ago when Libby had decided she’d like to have rabbits. By the time Melody had bought a cage and the hay, Libby had changed her mind.

  It was after seven, and she pointed her daughter toward the bathroom. “Bath time,” she said. “And then I’ll read you a story before you go to bed.”

  It had been a long day for both of them, and Melody was hoping to get her daughter to sleep early so she could take a little time to unwind and dance a bit in the studio and wrap the presents she’d bought that day.

  With the Santa shopping done, she had nothing to worry about for the rest of the week except enjoying the town activities and immersing herself in the Christmas spirit.

  It was close to eight-thirty by the time she finally got Libby into bed. She sat down next to her daughter and pulled the blanket up around her neck, then kissed her strawberry-scented cheek.

  Libby slammed her hand against her cheek to keep the kiss there for the remainder of the night. It was a routine that had begun when she was little more than a baby.

  It was also a routine that Melody read to Libby each night before the lights went out. She wanted her daughter to love reading, to know that by reading you could explore all kinds of new worlds.

  Although she knew eventually Libby would be asking for electronic readers and computers that played games and whatever, for now Melody was glad that the toys on Libby’s Christmas list had been of the nonelectronic type. Time enough for all that later.

  When she had finished reading for the night, Libby reached up and placed her palm against Melody’s face. “I can’t wait for Santa Claus to come,” she said drowsily. “He’s gonna have a big surprise for you.”

  “For me?” Melody smiled at her sleepy daughter. “I already have the best present in the world, and that’s you.”

  Libby’s hand fell to the bed and she smiled with sleepy secretiveness. “You just wait. I wrote a note to Santa to tell him what we want, but I didn’t give it to you to mail. I mailed it all by myself so you wouldn’t know the secret.”

  “Enough talk of Santa and secrets,” Melody said. “Now it’s time to sleep.”

  Libby nodded and closed her eyes, and before Melody left the side of her bed, Libby fell asleep.

  Whatever Libby had asked Santa for Christmas, she hoped she had it in the trunk of her car, because there was nothing worse than a disappointed six-year-old at Christmas time.

  It was just after eleven when she’d wrapped the final present and tucked it back into the trunk of her car. Still wide-awake, she sat down on the sofa and stared at the Christmas tree that had yet to be decorated.

  Christmas Eve she and Libby would pull out the ornaments and tinsel, the twinkling lights and the angel to dress the tree. The past two Christmases had been bittersweet, as they’d pulled out ornaments that Seth had bought to make the perfect cowboy Christmas tree.

  There were hats and boots, saddles and horses, and each and every one of them reminded both Libby and Melody of what it had been like to be a real, complete family.

  Maybe this year she wouldn’t use those particular ornaments. Instead they’d string popcorn and use ribbon and mistletoe and make aluminum-foil stars and do an old-fashioned tree.

  Why continue reminding themselves of what they’d lost? New beginnings and new decorations, she thought drowsily. The impromptu meal with Jake had been nice, but she would never seriously entertain a relationship with a cowboy again.

  Still, as she fell asleep, it wasn’t visions of sugarplums that danced in her head; rather, it was the hot, handsome Jake who invaded her dreams.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “LIBBY, YOU CAN’T wear your tap shoes to town,” Melody told her daughter for the third time.

  “But I like the way they sound on
the sidewalks,” Libby replied.

  Melody gathered her coat around her and sat on the sofa. “You have two choices. You can either change your shoes and we’ll go to town, or you can keep your tap shoes on and we’ll just stay home. It’s your decision.”

  Libby frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go change my shoes.” She quickly disappeared down the hallway to her bedroom.

  Melody had learned long ago that Libby responded best when given the option to make her own decision, and usually Libby made the right decision when faced with choices and consequences.

  Melody was looking forward to spending the day wandering in and out of the shops. There was nothing particular she wanted or needed to buy, but if something caught her or Libby’s eye she had a little mad money tucked into her purse.

  Libby returned, this time wearing a pair of black boots that were perfect for the cold weather and a long day of walking. She pulled on her bright blue coat, and together mother and daughter left the house.

  “Do you think it will snow before Christmas?” Libby asked as she looked out the passenger window of the car.

  “According to the weatherman, we’re supposed to have a white Christmas.”

  Libby clapped her hands together. “Then on Christmas Day we can make a snowman with a carrot nose and red gumdrops for a mouth and some of my blue sequins for eyes.”

  Melody laughed. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this snowman.”

  “Everything is going to be just perfect this Christmas,” Libby replied with a smug smile. “You just wait until you see what Santa Claus brings for us, and then we’ll both be so happy.”

  “Then I can’t wait,” Melody replied lightly, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was her daughter expected to happen when Santa came.

  By the time she found a parking place smack-dab in the middle of Main Street, Libby had already moved on to talking about the different stores she wanted to visit.

  It was just after ten and already the sidewalks bustled with people. An energy filled the air, the energy of only seven days left until Christmas Day. While most of the people who shared the sidewalks walked with purpose, as if knowing what needed to be bought and determined to get it done, Libby and Melody walked hand in hand and at a slower pace.

  “Carrie’s Christmas Shop first,” Libby said as they approached the store.

  Their entry into the store was announced by the tinkle of bells, and the scent of cinnamon and spices filled the shop. “Mmm, it smells good in here,” Libby said, and then raced forward to watch a miniature train making its way around the base of a beautifully decorated tree.

  “Isn’t it cute, Mom?” Libby said. “And the tree is so pretty.”

  “It is, but remember that I told you that this year we’re having an old-fashioned tree? We’ll spend Christmas Eve having so much fun decorating it.”

  “Hi, Melody,” Carrie, the proprietor of the store, greeted her. Carrie’s thirteen-year-old daughter took dance lessons at Melody’s.

  “Hey, Carrie. Libby and I decided to do a little window-shopping today, but I have a feeling I’m not going to get out of here without buying whatever it is that smells so wonderful,” Melody replied.

  “It’s probably the cinnamon candles. Don’t they smell lovely?”

  Melody cast a quick glance at her daughter, who had drifted off to a display of teddy bears. “Remember, Libby, we don’t touch.”

  “I know.” Libby shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I’m just looking.”

  “She’s so cute,” Carrie said, and sidled closer to Melody. “I heard a little tidbit of gossip this morning that was very interesting. It had to do with you and Jake Hanson.”

  Melody felt her cheeks fill with the warmth of a blush. “It was just an impromptu quick dinner at the café. Goodness, news travels fast around here.”

  Carrie laughed. “Especially when it involves Jake Hanson and any woman. He’s been the town hermit since his wife died five years ago.”

  “Oh, he’s a widower?” Melody hadn’t heard about him having had a wife.

  “Stacy died in a car accident.... It was just around this time of the year.” Carrie frowned. “As I remember, it was a bad winter and we had an ice storm. Stacy had come into town to do some last-minute shopping, and on her way home a semitruck scissored in front of her and she hit it.”

  “How tragic.” Melody’s heart squeezed tight as she thought about the man she’d shared her meal with the night before. No wonder he’d said he hated Christmas. She would forever hate rodeos because it had been at one of those events that Seth had died. But it was much easier for her to avoid rodeos than for Jake to avoid Christmas, especially in this town.

  Melody was almost grateful when the bell over the door tinkled, announcing new shoppers in the shore. She found Libby looking at a tree-topper angel that turned bright colors like the lights on a Vegas casino.

  “Isn’t she beautiful, Mom?”

  Tacky was closer to the word Melody might have used.

  “Wait a minute and she’ll turn purple. You know how much I love purple.”

  Melody thought of the angel that had always topped their tree, a beautiful white one whose feathered wings had become rather bedraggled through the years.

  “I’ll tell you what. How about I buy one of those scented candles for me and for you we’ll get this angel to top our tree from now on?”

  “Oh, Mom, thank you!” Libby threw her arms around Melody’s waist for a quick hug and then grabbed one of the boxed angels and held it tight against her chest.

  So they’d have an old-fashioned Christmas tree with a Vegas stripper on the top, Melody thought as she paid for the two items. Definitely new beginnings, she reminded herself.

  She and Libby stepped back outside into the bracing December air, and she tried to put out of her mind the handsome face of Jake Hanson, who she now knew had lost at love just as she had.

  * * *

  JAKE HAD NO idea what he was doing, but when he saw the dark-haired woman in the bright red coat with the little girl by her side, he knew he’d come to town specifically for the possibility of running into Melody again.

  He’d been chased out of the house by the silence that for a long time had felt comforting, but in the past few months had grown more and more oppressive.

  As he’d driven by Melody’s house, he hadn’t seen her car parked outside, but he hoped to run into her in town. He had enjoyed his dinner with her and discovered a hunger to see her again.

  It had surprised him, the desire to spend more time with her. He’d sworn when he lost Stacy that no woman would ever hold any place in his life again. But wanting to spend a little time with somebody and inviting them fully into his life were two very different things, he reminded himself as he hurried to catch up to Melody and her daughter.

  “Hey,” he said as he touched her on the shoulder.

  Both Melody and her daughter turned, Melody’s face lighting with a smile and her daughter’s face holding distinct suspicion as she eyed him from the tip of his hat to the toes of his boots. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Libby, this is Mr. Hanson. He lives next door to us,” Melody said. “Surely you’ve seen him on his horse in the pasture next to our house before.”

  “I don’t like him. Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She grabbed Melody’s hand and attempted to drag her away.

  Melody looked at her daughter in obvious shock. “Libby, you’re being very rude. Now, you apologize to Mr. Hanson.”

  “Sorry,” Libby said, but the mutinous pout of her lower lip indicated otherwise.

  “Apology accepted, and you can call me Jake, although I have to say that I’ve never had anyone not like me before they got to know me.” He glanced back at Melody. “So where are you two headed?”

  “
We are doing a little window-shopping,” Melody replied.

  He gestured to the shopping bags in her hand. “Looks as if the window got the best of you.”

  She laughed, and for a moment, in the sound of her laughter, he didn’t feel the cold wintry air nor notice the other people who passed them on the sidewalk. He was filled with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time—the warmth of pleasure in the simple sound of a woman’s laughter.

  “Where are you headed now?” he asked.

  “I’d like to check out the store in the old Victorian house at the end of Main Street,” she replied.

  “Mistletoe Magic. It’s a new age kind of store, but I happen to know that the owner, Finley McCarthy, is selling a magic potion this year just for kids.”

  “A magic potion?” Suspicion darkened Libby’s blue eyes as she looked up at him.

  “You sprinkle it on your pillow on Christmas Eve and it’s supposed to bring you dreams of all the toys and things you want for Christmas.” He’d actually visited the shop the week before when the silence of his life had driven him out of the house.

  “Mom, we need to get some of that potion,” Libby said.

  “It definitely sounds like a must-have for Christmas,” Melody agreed.

  “Do you mind if I walk with you?” he asked. There he was again, insinuating himself where he probably didn’t belong.

  “That would be nice,” Melody agreed. Libby huffed in obvious disapproval and walked three steps ahead of them as they continued down the sidewalk. “I apologize for Libby’s behavior. I’ve never seen her act out this way.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t want to share her mother for a little while,” he replied easily.

  Melody frowned thoughtfully, her gaze remaining on the little girl just ahead of them. “Maybe. In the past couple of years she hasn’t had to share my time or attention with anyone other than my dance students, and she knows my time with them is important.”

 

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