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

Page 17

by Carla Cassidy


  “That’s good.”

  Another disgruntled sound. After a moment, Nick said, “Would you plug in the heat lamp for me?”

  Heat lamp. That explained the weird metal mesh covering the bulb.

  “Sure.” Steadying the lamp in the sawdust, she reached for the cord.

  “The outlet’s on the post outside the stall.”

  Two feet shy. If she pulled any harder, she’d topple the lamp. “The cord won’t reach.”

  “There’s an extension cord in the shed.”

  Her hurried trip to and from the shed startled the horses, who snorted and danced sideways. After plugging in the lamp, she flipped the switch. The bulb glowed a bright orange-red. For a relatively small device, it emitted a lot of heat. She aimed the cone-shaped shade toward the calf.

  By then, Nick was sitting on the stall floor with the calf’s head on his lap, attempting to feed it. The calf made a weak effort to mouth the nipple, then gave up with a pitiful sigh.

  “Give him time,” Emma encouraged. “Maybe he just needs to warm up a bit.”

  “We don’t have time.” He paused, studying the calf. “Go to the house. See if you can find a turkey baster.”

  Again, Emma did as Nick asked. She didn’t remind him that he’d initially refused her assistance, only glad that she could provide it.

  In the kitchen, she rummaged through drawers. Despite the racket she made, no one appeared. Finally, she found the baster. Next to the oven. She should have looked there first.

  “How are Leonard and your mom doing?” Nick asked when she produced the baster.

  “Not so great. Holly apologized to me earlier, but Mom’s still worried she won’t support the marriage.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I am, too.”

  “Really, Emma?” Unscrewing the nipple from the bottle, he filled the turkey baster with liquid.

  “Of course I am. Mom obviously loves Leonard. I hate seeing her hurt.”

  “Yet you think she should have waited to get married.”

  “I don’t want to argue about this now.” Or ever again, she silently added.

  Nick angled the calf’s head and carefully pried open its mouth. He inserted the baster and squeezed the bulb. The calf drank several swallows. Emma went almost giddy with relief.

  “He’s eating!” she exclaimed.

  “A little. We still have a long road ahead.” After the calf accepted a few more mouthfuls from the baster, Nick tried the bottle. The calf suckled once, then dropped its head in Nick’s lap, utterly exhausted. “That’s enough for now. We’ll try again later.”

  We? Did he realize he’d included her?

  He pushed to his feet and covered the calf with a blanket. “I’m going inside for a few minutes. Get a cup of coffee and see if I can scrounge up a dry shirt.”

  “Good idea.” Despite the warmth from the heat lamp, he was still soaked. “You don’t want to get sick.”

  “Do you mind staying here and watching her?”

  “Her? It’s a girl?” Emma had called the calf a he.

  “Yeah.” Pausing at the stall door, he searched her face. “Thanks, Emma.”

  “Sure.”

  “And...”

  “What, Nick?”

  “I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have argued with you. Not after last night.”

  He wasn’t apologizing for what he’d said, only that he’d chosen the wrong moment. Not what she wanted to hear.

  “We’re both stressed.”

  “Right.” He walked away.

  She stared after him. Had she not given the response he’d wanted to hear, either?

  Emma focused her energies on the calf, which still lay on the stall floor, its eyes closed. The curious horse in the neighboring stall pressed its nose to the bars and snorted as if with disdain that a cow should be allowed in with the horses.

  “You sleeping, little girl?” Emma went closer to the calf. After a moment, she knelt down beside it. “Poor, poor baby.”

  Extending a tentative hand, she stroked the calf’s head. It didn’t so much as flick an eyelash. Sitting back, she shoved her hands into her coat pockets—and encountered the mistletoe charm. Like the other day, it was oddly warm. But that was impossible.

  The luck is in the giving. Wasn’t that what her mother had said?

  On impulse, Emma withdrew the charm and examined it. The leaves were still a bright, lush green, and the small white berries plump and round. How could that be?

  Untying the red ribbon, she stretched it out, satisfied with the length. Gently easing her hand beneath the calf’s head, she wound the ribbon around its neck and secured the charm with a knot. When she was done, she went back to stroking the calf.

  Only then did she notice the tears streaming down her cheeks. She blinked them away, for all the good it did. More continued to fall.

  Alone in the stall with the sleeping calf, Emma let herself cry. For her mother, for herself and for their thwarted weddings. Why hadn’t they both waited? So much heartache could have been avoided.

  Then again, what if Nick was right? Should she have married him anyway and faced their difficulties together, stronger as a couple? Emma had been so shocked and hurt at Laurel Linkletter’s claim, she hadn’t stopped to consider any option other than leaving. As if she’d needed to punish Nick for the pain he’d caused her.

  Oh, God. She had been trying to punish him. And every day since then by staying away. Only in reality, she’d punished them both, preventing either of them from finding happiness.

  Was it too late? For a while, last night and this morning, she’d thought not. Then she’d learned about Nick dating Holly and used it as an excuse to rehash the past.

  A sudden pressure against her knee startled Emma, and she looked down. The calf was awake and stirring!

  “Hey, little girl.”

  The next instant, the calf lifted its head and bleated.

  “Well, well.” Nick entered the stall.

  He looked better than before. In fact, he looked incredible. Love for him filled her. She opened her mouth to tell him, then fell silent. Too risky. What if he didn’t love her in return?

  “I think she’s better.” Emma gazed hopefully at the calf, then at Nick.

  In response, the calf kicked out with its front legs.

  “You’re right.” He came over for a closer inspection. “Let’s see if she can stand.”

  Bending at the waist, he grabbed the calf around the middle and lifted. The calf moved its legs in a swimming motion before planting all four hooves on the stall floor.

  “She’s standing,” Emma exclaimed.

  “Not quite yet.”

  The little calf’s legs trembled uncontrollably for another minute, eventually easing to a mild shake.

  “If you hold her,” Nick said, “I’ll get some fresh formula.”

  “What if I drop her?”

  “You won’t.”

  His assurance gave Emma the confidence she needed. When the calf leaned against her leg for support, she remained steady. “I’ve got her.”

  “Good girl.”

  Emma beamed. Nick used to say the same thing when she’d mastered a new skill during their riding lessons.

  He wasn’t gone long. When he returned with the bottle, he held it out to Emma. “You want to feed her?”

  “Can I?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Keeping one hand on the calf, she offered the bottle with the other one. The calf latched on and began drinking with gusto.

  Emma laughed. “She’s making a mess.”

  Indeed, some of the formula had dribbled from the calf’s mouth and onto the stall floor.

  “She’s getting eno
ugh. Don’t worry.” Nick narrowed his gaze, then fingered the mistletoe. “What’s this?”

  “A lucky charm. My mom gave it to me the other day. I don’t know why I put it on the calf.”

  “Seems to be working.”

  Emma had been so preoccupied, she’d failed to realize the calf had taken a step forward. Nick put his hand over hers and pulled the bottle from the calf’s mouth. It immediately followed the bottle, taking another step.

  “She’s walking! We saved her. I mean, you saved her.”

  Nick grinned—at her, not the calf. “We’ll share the credit.”

  Suddenly, all the broken pieces of her life mended, and her world became whole. Emma knew exactly what she needed to say, what she needed to do.

  “Nick...I...”

  “What?” His grin softened.

  “Here.” She handed him the bottle. “I have to go.”

  “Where?” He said it as if he didn’t want her to leave.

  “There’s something I need to tell my mother.”

  “Just her?”

  “Her first.”

  Impulsively, she hugged him, then hurried to the house. She threw open the back door. “Mom! Where are you?” she hollered.

  Emma found not only her mother and Leonard in the family room, but Cole and Holly, as well. “Good. You’re all here. I have something important to say.”

  “What’s wrong?” Her mother started to rise from her chair.

  “No, you stay there.”

  If anything, her mother’s appearance had worsened. Had Holly said something else? Emma didn’t waste a moment.

  “Don’t call off the wedding,” she said. “Whatever you do.”

  “What’s changed your mind?” The question came from Cole.

  “I’ve come to my senses,” Emma told him.

  “Finally!”

  “Now, Cole,” their mother admonished.

  “I was kidding.” His tone conveyed otherwise.

  “It’s okay.” Emma went over and sat in the chair adjacent to her mother. “I’ve been a fool. I shouldn’t have left Nick at the church. And I sure shouldn’t have left Mistletoe. Mom, don’t make the same mistake as me.”

  “But we’ve already agreed. Leonard and I are going to wait. Probably till spring. And Holly’s going to make more of an effort to accept me.”

  “Don’t you dare postpone your wedding for her. She has no right to interfere. And you and Leonard are bigger fools than me if you let her.”

  Holly visibly bristled. “Now, wait a minute.”

  Cole reached across the couch where they sat together and placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Stay out of this.”

  “What!”

  “I like you, Holly, even though you’re pushy as hell. But if you don’t keep quiet and give Emma a chance to finish, I’m going to drag you out of here, kicking and screaming if I have to.”

  She drew back, a stunned expression on her face. “You like me?”

  Laughing, he hooked an arm around her neck and hauled her close. “Shut up, will you?

  Holly did. Just like that.

  “I was wrong, Mom.” Emma thought she heard the back door open but ignored it. She was on a roll. “I should have stayed and given Nick a chance.”

  “You had good reason.”

  “I had a reason to be angry at him. He did lie to me. His intentions, however, weren’t malicious or manipulative. He didn’t want to hurt me, and he never cheated on me. But I was too young and too pigheaded to see that at the time. Even after I’d calmed down. Just think.” She clasped her mother’s hand. “If I stayed, Nick and I would have talked things out. Even if the baby was his, we’d have come up with a plan.” Her breath caught, and when she next spoke, her voice wavered. “I screwed up the best thing to ever happen to me.”

  “I’m sorry for what you went through, honey, but this situation is different. Waiting makes sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Leonard interjected.

  “He’s right, Mom.” Emma squared her shoulders. “And I’m going to see to it you marry him. Tomorrow.”

  Her mother smiled for the first time that day. “You can’t force me.”

  “Force is a strong word. I prefer convince.”

  “I like the way she talks.” Leonard came over and drew Emma’s mother to her feet. “I love you, Candy. I didn’t think I’d ever say that to another woman, or that I’d ever be happy again. Then I met you, and everything changed. I can’t wait a day longer to begin our lives together.”

  “Oh, Leonard.” Emma’s mother brushed the silver hair at his temple with her fingertips, the gesture sweet and poignant. “I love you, too. And I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult.”

  “You’re about to get married. You’re allowed.”

  Tension evaporated from her face, leaving her looking years younger. “I really am, aren’t I?”

  “Wild horses won’t stop us.”

  Leonard kissed Emma’s mother with the enthusiasm of a man crazy in love. Emma approved.

  Cole leaped up, dragging Holly with him. He gave his mother a warm hug once Leonard released her. Even Holly broke down when her father pulled her close.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “I love you, sugar pie. And I always will.”

  Emma let out a sigh. Disaster had been averted.

  “Nice speech.”

  She whirled. Nick stood there, an expression in his eyes she hadn’t seen for a long, long time. Her heart beat erratically.

  “How much did you hear?” she asked.

  “About everything.”

  “Oh.” She waited, afraid to assume too much. Afraid to make the first move.

  “Let’s talk.” He held out his hand.

  Emma hesitated, then slid her fingers into his.

  “Good luck, you guys,” Cole called after them.

  The second Emma and Nick were outside, she realized she’d forgotten her coat a second time. Not smart, what with the snow falling and temperature dropping. They stood on the back stoop, just under the roof’s edge.

  “Are you cold?” Nick asked.

  “A little.” She was freezing.

  Before she quite knew what was happening, he had opened the front of his coat, pulled her close and wrapped her in his warm embrace.

  “You aren’t the only one who made a mistake.” His warm breath caressed her hair. “I should have gone after you, Emma. I should have hunted you down, made you listen and insisted you come home with me.”

  “We were both young. And impulsive.”

  “Then, when I had the chance this morning to tell you how I feel, I didn’t. I got distracted by work instead.”

  Emma took a leap. The biggest one of her life. “How do you feel, Nick?”

  “I love you. I’ve never stopped. That’s why I haven’t been able to date anyone seriously. The only reason Holly and I lasted four months was because of her father.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Holly. She’s done enough damage.”

  “It’s not all her fault.”

  “Truthfully,” Emma admitted, “hardly any of it is. Mom and I both had our doubts, and she played on them.”

  Nick lowered his head for a light kiss. “Don’t go. Stay in Mistletoe. We deserve a second chance.”

  Emma started to object. She had a job to return to, one she didn’t love. An apartment, such as it was. An interview on the following Monday for a position that didn’t really interest her.

  Leaving it all behind for a second chance with Nick? A no-brainer if she ever heard one.

  “I need something from you first. A promise.”

  The twinkle she adored appeared in his eyes. “Name it.”

  “Love me and t
rust me enough to be completely honest. No exceptions. I can cope with any problem, big or small, as long as I’m not blindsided.”

  “Deal.” He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the mistletoe charm. He must have removed it from the calf’s neck. “Marry me, Emma. Soon. Don’t make me wait.”

  A thrill coursed through her. “Is Valentine’s Day early enough?”

  “How ’bout New Year’s Eve instead?”

  “A week? I can’t possibly—”

  He silenced her with a kiss that made the past six years of loneliness and heartache melt away. As his lips moved possessively over hers, Nick pressed the charm into Emma’s hand.

  She swore it gave off a mild warmth. But that was impossible...right?

  EPILOGUE

  EMMA WALKED SLOWLY down the aisle, careful to match her steps to the beat of the music. Cole smiled at her and patted the hand holding his arm.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

  “Thank you.” Emma felt herself blush. Then again, she was a bride.

  One week earlier, she’d walked down this same aisle. Then, she’d been the maid of honor at her mother’s wedding—a gorgeous event that went off without a hitch.

  Her mother and Leonard had delayed leaving for their honeymoon until New Year’s Day in order to serve as Emma and Nick’s matron of honor and best man. Cole, too, had stayed on so he could give Emma away—and get to know Holly better. Emma hadn’t seen that coming, but then again, the past two weeks had been one surprise after another.

  Only a handful of guests attended her and Nick’s New Year’s Eve wedding, among them Karen Merrick and her husband. Emma had canceled her interview for last Monday, then given notice at her current job, moments after accepting the office manager position at Merrick’s Mistletoe Farm. In a few weeks, she and Nick would travel to Austin in order to pack up her apartment and move her things to his house. This summer, they’d take a trip. Nick wanted to see the Grand Canyon. Emma, Lake Tahoe. Deciding would be fun.

  Their small and intimate ceremony would be followed by a dinner at the Roundup Steak House. They’d insisted on keeping things simple—and speedy. Once again, Emma was rushing to the altar, arranging her wedding in less than a week. This time, however, there would be no interruptions. Regardless of who might walk through the church doors at the last second—it could be the Baby New Year himself as far as she was concerned—Emma was becoming Mrs. Nick Hayes.

 

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