Mistletoe Miracles

by Jodi Thomas

  Before Christmas, she’d be married. She’d be free for the first time, with no one pulling her strings, trying to make her dance to music she didn’t hear. Her parents would have no one to play tug-of-war with any longer.

  She felt like a high-stakes gambler in Las Vegas. She was betting it all on a man she barely knew. A man whose hair was too long to be stylish. His clothes looked like he actually worked in them. He probably didn’t know a thing about art or music or plays, but he believed they might work well together.

  That was enough.

  There was nothing fancy or polished about Griffin Holloway, but there was strength. He struck her as a man who could stand the storm.

  Any storm. Even her father.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The Johnsons

  THE LAKE HOUSE was quiet and warm. Wyatt fell asleep twice during the movie. Jamie woke him up both times laughing, which didn’t bother him at all.

  She was wrapped up in a blanket on one end of the couch and he was on the other. Popcorn and a half-eaten pie he’d bought at the café sat between them.

  “How’d you like your first Hallmark movie?” she asked.

  Wyatt hadn’t noticed the movie was over. “Loved it,” he lied. “You want to watch another one?”

  It was just nice to sit in her quiet little house and do nothing. The problems and stress of his last assignment seemed a million miles away. The worry about the next assignment haunted his thoughts a bit, but he pushed it aside. He’d had orders that he thought might get him killed before and he’d always made it, though. This one would be well planned, well executed, just like the others. And after it worked, he’d never have to go back to that location again.

  He watched the cute little schoolteacher stand. “I can’t watch anymore. School tomorrow.”

  “Right. I’ll sleep out here.”

  “But...”

  “No. It’s your bed, and believe me, this couch is far more comfortable than most of the places I sleep. If you’re still worried about this, I’ll be gone before you get home tomorrow. I promise, I’ll lock the place up when I leave.”

  Jamie hugged the blanket. “About that. I was thinking you could take me to school, then use my car to find yours. Around four, you could pick me up before you head out. It wouldn’t hurt if a few people see us together so they’ll believe there really is a Mr. Johnson.”

  He was afraid to ask if she might let him stay another day. He’d just let the hand play out, but he’d already figured how it would work in his mind. In truth, he couldn’t see much of a downside to staying a little longer. One more day at the lake. One less in a hotel room.

  “All right, I’ll stay. That sounds like a plan. It couldn’t hurt if a few more people saw us together. Make that imaginary husband seem more real.”

  “Right. Only I have a feeling Mr. Thames will get the word out. He had the oddest look on his face when we walked past him in the parking lot of Dorothy’s Café. You’d think, since you went out earlier to introduce yourself, he would have at least nodded a greeting.” She moved toward her bedroom.

  “I noticed him, too.” Wyatt played innocent. “Thought it was strange. Good night, Jamie.”

  “Good night, Wyatt.”

  When she closed the door between them, Wyatt fought the urge to yell, Wait a minute. You’re my wife. You fit the fantasy perfectly that I’ve been carrying around for years. We should play it through until my leave is over.

  The lock on her bedroom door clicked. His fantasy shattered.

  He knew a life with a wife in a quiet spot was just his dream. The little house. The peace. The woman who laughed with him. For a moment, he’d almost believed luck would let him have what he longed for so many nights when he was far from home.

  But luck didn’t work that way. He was a soldier. He didn’t have time to build that kind of life.

  After lying awake for an hour, he pulled on his sweats and went out back so he could breathe in the cold air and watch the lake. Heaven, he thought. Pure heaven.

  He’d enjoy this part of the dream, even if he had to steal the time.

  When he finally came inside, he tossed another log on the fire and lay down on the couch, his feet hanging off the end. As he closed his eyes, the dream of home came back to him, but this time his wife had dark blond hair that curled around her face and she wore glasses. She wasn’t thin but nicely rounded, and she liked to laugh.

  The next morning, neither of them had much to say as they ate the last of the cereal in the tiny kitchen. Their knees kept bumping under the small table until they finally laughed about it without saying a word.

  She told him her schedule, like he might remember it all, and he pretended to be interested in every detail of her school routine. He wondered if she was as aware of their time together winding down as he was. Who cared how many students she had in her drama class? All he cared about was how many minutes he had left to share with her.

  When he pulled up at the front of the school, he was surprised when she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “See you at four.” Her words were light, as if she’d said them every day for years.

  “I’ll be waiting.” He smiled as though there weren’t a dozen things he wanted to say, but they all seemed logjammed in his throat. How did he tell someone that she’d been in his dreams for years?

  When he drove away, he began prioritizing jobs. Filling her car with gas was definitely on his list. First, though, he’d go to the hardware store for what he’d need to hang that hammock. Then the grocery store. He’d eaten most of the cereal, all her cookies and all the popcorn. Man, he missed carbs when he was out of the States.

  If Jamie hadn’t made it back Sunday night, he’d been considering gnawing on one of the frozen steaks in her freezer.

  No one spoke to him in the hardware store, but the checker in the grocery store called him Captain Johnson like she knew him. Even told him Jamie always bought the whole wheat bread.

  On his way back to the lake, he spotted the donut place and stopped in to buy a bag and two cups of coffee. The least he could do was drop them off at the sheriff’s office. However, Deputy Thatcher and Sheriff Cline were both out, so he took the coffees and dozen donuts back to Jamie’s place, planning to have them for lunch.

  Wyatt passed the morning working and munching on the donuts. By lunch, he was starving and decided to drive back into town for a burger. When he’d filled the van up on gas thirty minutes later, the owner of the station addressed him as Captain Johnson. They even discussed how Jamie’s van was sounding, and the guy loaned Wyatt the tools he’d need to fix it.

  Two hours later when he took the tools back, he stopped by the café and bought a pie. There he ran into the same thing. People knew his name. To his surprise, he was becoming a local.

  Just because it sounded so normal, Wyatt spent time talking to Dorothy, the café owner, about what he could cook for supper. She ended up writing a recipe on a sack for him, then filling the bag with all he’d need.

  When he tried to pay, she shooed him away. “No charge. Glad you’re home, Captain.”

  By the time he pulled beside the cabin, he almost felt like he lived in Crossroads. Like he belonged.

  The afternoon was sunny but cold as he worked outside, mounting the hammock on a sturdy frame. Strong enough to hold two people, he thought, even though he knew that was purely fantasy.

  He tackled the kitchen cabinet doors that hung off their hinges next. It was almost time to go pick up Jamie when he realized he hadn’t checked on the car he’d rented near Wichita Falls, so he dropped back by the sheriff’s office on his way to the high school.

  The secretary told him the sheriff’s report, explained that the car ran off the road and into the fence line about a mile from the Maverick Ranch main entrance. She gave him both the number to the one tow-truck driver in town and the
cell of Griffin Holloway, the rancher who’d probably want to talk to him about the fence repairs.

  While he waited outside the school, Wyatt called both numbers. The towing service answering machine simply said, “Try again tomorrow, I got all I can handle today.” The rancher’s phone went directly to voice mail.

  He looked up and saw Jamie walking out with the crowd. On impulse, he stepped from the van and rushed toward her. A moment after she saw him, he was lifting her off the ground and swinging her around.

  She laughed in surprise, then looked embarrassed when he set her down and they both noticed everyone around them was staring.

  Taking her briefcase, he walked beside her. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “N-no,” she stuttered. “It was good.”

  He opened her door and tossed her case in the back. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. It just seemed like something a husband would do.”

  “Me either. For a moment, I thought I was flying.”

  As he backed out of his parking place, he asked, “Didn’t your father swing you around when you were little?”

  “No.”

  He glanced at her but her head was down. There obviously would not be more information to come. “Mine did.” He tried to keep the conversation going. “Once when I was about three or four, he accidentally dropped me. I thought my mom would kill him. Turns out she just divorced him.”

  “Over an accident?” Her big eyes were staring at him now.

  “No, over an affair he was having. But she got over being mad fast. Two months after she filed, she found her ‘soul mate’ in a counseling class for the newly divorced. After that, Dad was always out reliving his twenties and Mom was home staring into the depths of her soul mate’s eyes, where she swore she saw her eternity.”

  Jamie smiled. “You don’t believe in soul mates?”

  “Sure. Mom’s found three so far. Every time she leaves a husband, she rolls back her age like rewinding the odometer on a car. I’ve heard husband number three is closer to my age than hers.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “No. It’s fine. The first one lasted ten years. Mom said he was too complicated. Number two had daughters and Mom said they poisoned her chances at happiness. Number three is still with her. But she mentioned something negative about him in her monthly email so he’s probably packing as we speak. Now she’ll be looking for the next one, promising he’ll be sterile, simpleminded and rich. She also added in the note that he’d be too old to pick me up and drop me. Which shows she never forgave my father for that one mistake.”

  Jamie laughed again.

  “I love how you laugh.” The words were out before he could stop them.

  She looked away and he couldn’t help but wonder if Jamie Johnson had had many compliments in her life. She wasn’t a woman who’d stand out in a crowd. She was quiet. She loved her students. There was nothing about her that would attract attention.

  “What about your father?” She finally broke the silence.

  “He’s in Berkeley. I don’t think he wants to be reminded he even has a son.”

  They pulled into her drive and parked in the back. He watched her, knowing the exact moment she saw the hammock.

  “You fixed it!” She was out of the car almost before he stopped, running toward the back porch. “Now I can swing and watch the sun set over the lake. Oh, thank you, Wyatt.”

  “No big deal. It was the least I could do.”

  She jumped in the hammock and began to swing. For a moment, he saw a little girl with a Christmas-morning smile.

  When she finally slowed, he added, “I’ve got some bad news. My car can’t be towed until tomorrow. I hate to ask, but I’ll need a ride to the nearest hotel.”

  “You can’t. Unless I drive you to Lubbock, everyone will be asking what’s wrong.”

  He scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Standing, she marched into the lake house. “You’ll just have to stay here. We’re friends now. It will be all right.”

  He grinned as he followed her inside.

  “What’s all this?” she asked when she saw the groceries on the kitchen counter.

  “Well, I figured I owed you a load of groceries. I’ve been eating here. And I thought I’d cook you supper and hoped you’d invite me to join you.”

  She looked at the chili simmering in a Crock-Pot. “I think you knew I would let you stay, Captain, or you wouldn’t have made so much.”

  “Guilty. Do I stay, or are you kicking me out, Mrs. Johnson? I should mention it’s starting to snow outside. But I’ll go if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Stay, of course,” she said. “Stay for as long as you like. I’ll enjoy the company.”

  And that was it, pure and simple. They started putting away groceries, and she squealed with happiness every time she found a latch he’d fixed or a door he’d gotten unstuck. They built a fire and had dessert in front of the flames. Then he taught her to play poker and let her win just to hear her laugh when she beat him.

  All his life, with all his travels, he’d never thought such a simple evening could be such fun. He felt like he was tucking away memories he’d revisit when he was cold and alone and a million miles from here.

  A little after ten, she yawned and said, “Good night, Wyatt.”

  He watched her walk to the bedroom door. “Good night, Jamie.”

  Leaning back on the couch, he heard the lock click. The only sound all evening that hadn’t been in his dreams.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Midnight Crossing

  JAXSON O’GRADY COULDN’T believe he was leaving the cabin, not for an emergency or food or anything important, but simply because every time he said the name Mayweather a stray dog raised his head. There was no denying it. Jax even tried mixing the word in with vegetables, with days of the week, with pretty much everyone he’d known in high school. But the dog only reacted to one word. Mayweather.

  So, like the idiot he was, Jax started the old Jeep and drove to town with Buddy belted into the seat beside him. The new little hospital was more of a clinic, but if the online paper was right, Mallory Mayweather was still there recovering.

  He decided the best time to go would be five minutes before eight at night. Most of the visitors would be gone, but it wouldn’t be so late his visit would draw attention. The fewer people he had to come into contact with the better.

  The first floor was a wide reception area leading into the clinic. After five, this area usually looked abandoned. The second floor served as a twenty-bed hospital. He knew he could get past the first floor and Jax reasoned that one man probably wouldn’t be noticed moving through the hallways upstairs at just about closing time.

  But the dog limping beside him might get a few looks. Jax hadn’t even tried to put a collar or leash on the animal. Buddy seemed to know that his place was at Jax’s side.

  He had thought of leaving Buddy back at the cabin, but if the woman did know him, she’d probably be much happier to see the dog than some stranger. If she didn’t know Buddy, she’d just think some nut had wandered into her room by accident.

  Jax made it through the lobby and up the elevator before some hulk of a man in green scrubs stopped him on the second floor. His name tag flashed silver in the dim lights. Todd Baker, Orderly.

  Todd hadn’t changed much since grade school, just grown bigger, Jax thought.

  “We don’t allow dogs,” the big man said in a tired voice. He put his fists on his hips, reminding Jax of a broken turnstile.

  “Hi, Tiny.” Jax tried to relax, but Todd Baker didn’t look any friendlier than he had in third grade when everyone called him Tiny because he was a head taller than all of them.

  “No dogs allowed, O’Grady.”

  “But—”

 
“No buts.” The guy spread his feet, as if making the stance he’d used years ago when he’d played fullback. Only most of his muscles had gone south. At over three hundred pounds, Todd could probably flatten Jax by falling on him.

  There was no point in further discussion. Jaxson and Buddy turned around and stepped back on the elevator. The collie followed, limping along, his head low. The dog seemed to realize they’d just lost round one.

  When the door closed, Jax whispered, “We’ll try another door.”

  Buddy didn’t lift his head.

  “Mayweather,” Jax said and swore the dog smiled as he looked up.

  They drove over to the local gas station and Jax bought them both ice-cream sandwiches. With the heater going full blast, he ate his with one hand while he held Buddy’s ice cream so the dog’s long tongue could lick the ice cream out of the center.

  By the time they got back to the hospital, the lobby was empty and the lights in the hallways had been dimmed. No clerk at the front desk. No guard on duty in sight. No one coming in or out except hospital employees now and then. At ten, Todd rushed out without even a jacket and jogged to a junker of a car even older than Jaxson’s Jeep.

  Buddy and Jax both dozed in the parking lot for a while. With each hour, fewer and fewer employees moved through the doors. By 1:00 a.m., Jaxson figured they’d have a good chance of passing unseen.

  “Come on, boy, let’s break into this place.”

  When he headed in, Buddy was right by his side. They were partners in this crime.

  The whole building seemed to be sleeping. Most of the patients and staff had settled down for the night. There was no intensive care unit, only a minor emergency area made up of two rooms that stayed open. Any patients with life-threatening issues were transported to Lubbock.

  Jax took the stairs to the second floor, thinking the elevator opening might draw some attention. The stairs opened out at the far end of the floor. From the looks of it, several rooms were empty on this end, their doors wide-open as if waiting. He slipped off his boots and walked slowly toward the central desk. Only the light tap of Buddy’s splint made any noise, and it seemed to beat in rhythm to the hallway clock.