Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe: A Small Town Holiday Novella Collection

by Christine Kingsley

  She burst into laughter.

  “Listen, if you haven’t thought of a name for him yet, you don’t have to pick one right now,” she said drily, once she stopped laughing.

  “No, really, that’s his name. Three guesses as to why I named him that, and the first two don’t count.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised. “Sticks? You’re an original fellow, aren’t you?”

  “One of a kind,” he drawled and winked at her. She laughed again, and he realized that he really liked hearing that sound.

  A lot.

  And that scared him.

  A lot.

  Chapter 6

  ~Bonnie~

  They tumbled into the house, laughing and unwrapping their scarves and pulling off their gloves as they went.

  “Carmelita, we’re home!” Jennifer called. Bonnie’s nose twitched.

  Is that…gingerbread cookies? Oh God, I’ve died and gone to heaven!

  They wandered through the house, looking for Carmelita, and finally found her in the living room, surrounded by boxes, Christmas music playing softly in the background. She wiped quickly at her face and Bonnie realized that she’d been crying.

  “Mis hijos, how was your trip?” she asked, quickly standing up and brushing at her skirt. Her perfectly clean skirt.

  What is she so upset about? Bonnie’s heart hurt at the idea of this kindly woman enduring sadness of any kind.

  “Great,” Stetson said. “Luke and I are going to bring in the tree, but I wanted to make sure we knew where the stand was for it before we lugged it in.”

  “Oh yes, I have placed it by the window already. It is ready for your tree.” And there it was, directly in front of the large window overlooking the backyard. The window was going to frame the Christmas tree perfectly — a picture-perfect Christmas card in the making.

  Stetson and Luke drug the tree in, with only a minimal amount of mumbled swearing and after a few more choice words, they got the tree stabilized and water into its base. Everyone stood back to admire the tree before they got to work on the ornaments.

  It was then that Bonnie realized why Carmelita had been sniffly when they came in. The Christmas decorations coming out of the box were not standard Target ornaments. They appeared to be handmade antiques.

  “Oh Stetson, this is so beautiful,” Jennifer breathed, pulling a tarnished silver ornament out of the box, the arms of it twinkling between the tarnished sections.

  Carmelita said quietly, “That was one of the ornaments that your great-great-grandparents brought with them across the United States, Stetson.”

  “Where did you find these?” Stetson asked, cradling the ornament in his hands.

  “I went up into the attic today while you were getting the tree, and found these boxes. After your mother passed away,” she made the sign of the cross, “your father asked me to pack them away. I knew you did not remember them, and I wanted to surprise you. My Christmas gift to you.”

  He stood from the couch and moved to her side. “Thank you, Carma,” he whispered. Bonnie couldn’t help it; she felt her eyes prick with tears. The love between them was palpable.

  “If only Wyatt and Declan were here to see them, too,” she said, stepping away, straightening her skirt and smoothing it again, fiddling, hiding her emotions, staring out the window as if the most fascinating play ever conceived was being put on the backyard in that very moment.

  “Now Carmelita, we both know that isn’t possible,” Stetson said, exasperation filling his voice. “Wyatt couldn’t come even if he wanted to, and even if he could, I wouldn’t want him here. He has a lot of growing up to do, and Declan needs to stop defending him.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice laced with pain. “I cannot stop wishing all of my boys to love each other, though.” She paused for just a moment and then said, “I will go get polish for the ornaments.” She hurried from the room.

  The silence filled the room, with only Bing Crosby’s voice daring to croon in their ears:

  Christmas Eve will find me

  Where the love light gleams

  I'll be home for Christmas

  If only in my dreams

  Jennifer gave a strained smile to Bonnie. “Come check out this wonderful treasure, Bonnie. It puts all Walmart decorations to shame.” Bonnie hurried over and ooohhh’d and awwww’d over the delicate antique angel, with a yellowed dress and an ever-so-slightly crooked golden halo hovering above its head.

  The music changed to a slightly more upbeat song — Wonderful Christmas Time — and soon, they were laughing again. Luke draped a twine garland with red bobbles hanging off it around his neck, striking a pose by the tree as he did so. Bonnie laughed until her belly ached and Jennifer polished the silver ornaments and Carmelita brought in trays of gingerbread cookies and coffee and milk and Stetson and Luke argued about who was the tallest and thus had the honor of putting the angel on the top of the tree and the music played, and Bonnie felt a kind of peace and love that she thought only existed in movies. Cheesy movies.

  But sitting there, the twinkling lights of the tree, watching the antics of her friends, she realized that even without her family there, she could still love Christmas. Luke won the battle and after placing the angel on top of the tree, he climbed down from the dining room chair and smiled triumphantly at Bonnie. She couldn’t hide the smile that spread across her features and then…his eyes darkened and her breath quickened and she blushed and her gaze dropped to her lap.

  She hurried to push the next piece of popcorn onto the needle and down the garland that she was supposed to be making and then she felt the couch shift as Luke sat down. He popped some popcorn into his mouth and said, “Look at me, helping out! Now you don’t have to string that popcorn!”

  She laughed while rolling her eyes. “Yes, your help is overwhelming me,” she said drily. “I just don’t know how to handle it.”

  “Here, how about this?” he asked, and placed a piece of popcorn at her lips. Her breath hitched and she opened her mouth automatically and he placed the piece inside gently, and then…

  Did he just brush his fingertips against my lips?

  She bit her bottom lip, staring into his dreamy dark chocolate eyes and she wasn’t sure she would ever breathe again, and then…

  The rafters shook and the window panes rattled and a wind tore through the pine trees outside like the howling of an angry god.

  “What the—!” Stetson exclaimed, putting the ornament down that he was working on and rushing to the window. Everyone followed, staring out into the darkness.

  The darkness only broken up by the snowflakes drifting to the ground as far as the eye could see.

  Chapter 7

  ~Luke~

  He’d been staring at Bonnie’s lips, having the most amazing daydream ever, where he was envisioning kissing her and running his fingers through her lush, dark hair, and then…

  The damn weather hit. And hit hard. He stared out into the semi-darkness, white snowflakes dancing in the wind, whipping into dizzying circles, dropping to the ground only to be sucked back up again, and realized that the weather report calling for only an inch of snow could not possibly be right.

  Stetson reached that conclusion at the same time Luke did. Their eyes met and he knew Stets was thinking the same thing he was — they had to figure out an emergency plan now, before the electricity cut off and they were all up a shit creek without any preparations for it.

  “Darlin’,” Stetson said, guiding Jennifer out of the living room and to the base of the stairs, “we need to gather up blankets, flashlights, pillows, sweaters, matches, candles — whatever you might think we would need if the lights go out. Bonnie, would you go with her?” Bonnie nodded and hurried up the stairs after Jennifer.

  Luke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Ol’ Willie. He wanted to be sure he was ready to cover the farm. With a blizzard brewing, who knew how long it’d be before Luke could make it back home.

  “Hey,” Ol’
Willie said, cranky as always.

  “Hey, we seem to be on the receiving end of a major storm here at Stetson’s place. How’s it look on the farm?”

  “Wind’s kicked up and can’t see for shit outside — visibility done disappeared. Don’t you worry ‘bout us. I already done strung a line from the house to the barn, so I can keep them horses fed no matter. Best you don’t come on home — this damn box canyon just makes the snowstorms worse. Not safe to drive now. You’d land your ass in the barrow pit.”

  Luke knew he was right, but it was hard to sit on the sidelines. He’d never been away from his farm during a major snowstorm, and was usually the one to string the rope from the corner of the house to the barn so he could move between the buildings even in zero visibility and keep the horses fed no matter what. Knowing that Ol’ Willie had thought to do that without being asked made him more appreciative than ever to have hired such a reliable employee.

  Especially since his employer had been busy making kissy faces with a girl…

  “Well, keep me updated if you can — if the phone lines stay active. I’m gonna help Stetson batten down the hatches.”

  “Yup,” Ol’ Willie said, and then the line went dead. Most other people might think that he was angry or pissed about something to end a conversation that way, but Luke wasn’t offended. Ol’ Willie just wasn’t much for wasting time with social niceties like “hello” and “goodbye.”

  Carmelita came in from the kitchen, worry etched into her face.

  “That wind did not sound so good,” she said, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “Was the weatherman wrong about this storm?”

  Stetson was looking on his phone. “Looks like it — the Weather Channel is saying that this has been upgraded to a full-blown blizzard. They’re estimating anywhere between six inches to two feet of snow by time it passes.”

  Luke gulped. Even for Long Valley, that was a lot of snow to fall in one storm.

  Another gust of wind buffeted the house and the lights flickered. The achingly cheerful Christmas music continued to play in the background; unable to handle it anymore, Luke turned off the stereo system. Now was not the time to sing along to White Christmas.

  “Stetson, I need my heart medicine,” Carmelita said, her hand on his arm, staring up into his face. “Maybe you should take me to my house now. I need to find my flashlight and blankets before the power dies.”

  “No, you should stay here with us,” Jennifer said, entering the room with her arms heaping with blankets. Luke wondered how she could even see over the stack. Bonnie trailed behind her with an equally large stack of pillows in her arms. “Stetson can go get your heart medicine and bring it back here. Then we only need to worry about keeping one home warm and safe.”

  Carmelita hesitated for a moment and then nodded, acquiescing to the wisdom of this plan, but said emphatically, “I must go with you. It is too hard to explain everything that I need.” She hurried to wrap up in her coat and scarf as the winds continued to howl around the farmhouse, whistling through the trees, shaking the window panes as it roared past.

  Sticks, content up to that point to a chew on a bone in the corner — Carmelita had refused to let him bring a stick inside — suddenly made his presence known when he began whining. He started trying to wedge himself underneath the couch, the far end bouncing up and down as Sticks wiggled his way to the back until only his tail was sticking out.

  Wimp. Luke couldn’t help loving his goofy-ass dog, even if he was damn worthless for just about anything but chewing up sticks.

  Everyone just stared at the couch, one end of it hovering about six inches off the ground, and then Bonnie said drily, “Well, no sitting on the couch for a while.”

  The smiles appeared for just a moment, and then disappeared as everyone sprung into action. Luke set to work filling up pots with water, since the well didn’t work without electricity to pump the water out of the ground. Jennifer and Bonnie went back to work to find candles and flashlights and matches. Sticks continued whining, because that’s what he was best at, and Stetson and Carmelita took off for her small white cottage. It was about 25 feet off from the house, although Luke was all too aware that 25 feet might as well be a universe away when you couldn’t see. He was sure Stetson would take good care of Carma, though, and get them both back to the house safely.

  After Luke filled every pot and bowl he could find, he headed for the back porch, where the firewood was stacked against the outside wall. He’d refill the firewood nook under the stairs in the living room. Stetson’s natural gas heater relied on electricity to keep the pilot light lit and to run the fan that blew the hot air around, so as soon as the electricity went out — which was a when, not an if at this point — so did the heat.

  He was about two-thirds of the way done when everything went dark.

  Dammit.

  He kept hauling the firewood in the semi-darkness of the house, wanting to get as much firewood inside as possible to minimize the number of times they’d need to open up the back door and let the heat escape out of the house. Once he had the firewood nook filled to the brim, he started stacking it in the fireplace. A fire in the fireplace would serve as a three-fold bonus at this point: Heat, light, and security. There was something peaceful about the crackling of a fire that would soothe everyone’s nerves.

  Once he’d filled the fireplace with some smaller pieces and set some large logs on the hearth off to the side, to feed into the fire once it was established, he set to work on getting the fire going. He’d done all he could at this point to ready the house; it was time for him to make sure everyone stayed nice and warm.

  He got a small fire going in no time, and started feeding the larger logs into it. Hopefully Bonnie and Jennifer would show up with some candles and they could light them and place them around the living room. Although the fireplace gave off light, it would still just feel better to ward off the darkness.

  He heard coughing behind him and turned to see Bonnie and Jennifer, dust streaked faces scrunched up as they continued to sneeze up a storm, bundles in their arms.

  “What…what happened to you two?” he asked, and then began laughing as Bonnie attempted to push her hair out of her face with the back of her hand and only ended up with more streaks of dirt on her face.

  “Well, I started to think after Carmelita brought all of those ornaments down from the attic that I bet that there was other stuff up there that we could use tonight,” Jennifer said as she set the bundles down. “So we went looking, and found sleeping bags.” She grinned triumphantly at Luke. “I figured Stetson probably hadn’t been camping since his dad died, maybe even before that, so any camping equipment would be up there, not in the garage. I know how Carmelita’s brain works.”

  Bonnie sneezed twice more in succession and then grinned at Luke. “And apparently, I’m just incapable of saying no.” He chuckled — he couldn’t help himself. She had a better sense of humor than any girl he’d ever met before, especially for a girl who currently had a spider’s web strung across her scalp.

  “So inquiring minds want to know — how did Carmelita manage to bring down all of these ornaments from the attic without ending up…looking like you two?” he asked with a grin, gesturing at their dirty faces and even dirtier hair.

  “We discussed that and decided that it can only be explained away by saying that Carmelita is magic.”

  “Magical powers where dust does not dare to land upon her,” Bonnie added with a grin.

  “Well, whatever her magical capabilities are, she’s not gonna be happy to see two homeless urchins have taken up residence in her living room,” Luke pointed out. “There’s pots of water in the kitchen — I’d clean up before her and Stets come back. Oh, and did you guys find any candles?”

  “Not yet,” Jennifer called back, her flashlight on her phone leading the way to the kitchen. “I’d meant to look through the pantry here in the kitchen for that, but got sidetracked.”

  Luke followed them into t
he kitchen, envious of their laughter as they attempted to clean each other. How long had it been since he’d allowed himself to just let go and let out a belly laugh? To relax and not fret about things to come? To just totally and completely relax?

  He’d started to tonight, as they’d decorated the tree. When Bonnie was stringing the popcorn on the string and he’d been busy feeding her, he’d felt a lightness inside that seemed almost alien to him. He’d gone back into work mode once the storm really kicked up, though, focused on the task at hand.

  But somehow, Bonnie and Jennifer were able to be focused and still have fun. That was their magic trick. A magic trick he wanted to learn.

  Taking his phone out of his pocket, he put it into airplane mode. No sense trying to waste battery searching for a signal in this storm. He flicked on the flashlight app and began hunting through the pantry. Organized as it was, it only took him seconds to find the candles and matches, conveniently stored next to each other. He picked up the basket of candles, balancing the matchbooks on top, and headed back to the living room. Time to give their new home a romantic feel.

  Complete with rafter-shuddering gusts of wind.

  After lighting and placing the candles around the living room, he decided he ought to convince Sticks to come out from underneath the couch.

  “C’mon, buddy,” he said, down on his hands and knees, looking underneath the couch. Two bright eyes stared back at him, not moving. “You can’t hide underneath here all night. We need to sit on this couch.” He made kissy noises and snapped his fingers a few times. Sticks whined but didn’t move. “C’mon boy, get out of there.”

  Preferably before someone walks in here and sees me down on the ground like this with my ass sticking up in the air.

  “No luck?” Bonnie said behind him.

  Dammit.

  He sat back on his haunches. “Not yet,” he admitted.

  “Let me have a go at it.” She got down on her hands and knees too, sticking her ever-so-fine ass up in the air, capturing Luke’s attention. Forget Sticks — he was happy to just stare at Bonnie’s curvy ass.