Mistletoe Miracles

by Jodi Thomas

  As they saddled their horses, he watched her straighten. He waited, knowing she had something else she needed to say.

  “I thought we’d show up at the Krown for a party. My father always invites lots of people for a big dinner. Sometimes my mother even puts in an appearance. That will probably be a great time to tell him about us.”

  “When people are around? I guessed him to be a yeller.”

  “He is, but he’ll keep it down with people around.”

  “Will we have to stay the night?”

  “No. If the weather’s clear, we can fly in, have the talk and fly home.” She swung into the saddle and he did also.

  As they crossed the yard and headed out, he said, “I’d like that but I wouldn’t mind staying long enough to have dinner. Around here, Thanksgiving is pretty much just football, beer and frozen pizzas. When my mom was around, she’d have us all hanging wreaths after dinner. When she died, Dad took all the decorations up to the attic. All the holidays left when Mom passed away. I think his heart died then, too. It just took a while for the doctors to notice.”

  Sunlan reached over and touched his arm in an almost-caress. “I’m not sure my dad even has a heart, but maybe you’re right. He does need to know I’m marrying. I’ll text him and tell him we’re coming for dinner. I’ll tell him I’m bringing someone very special. He’ll be surprised, maybe suspicious.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “She’ll be angry I’m not letting her plan the wedding. She’ll pout. Then she’ll fly off to some spa somewhere and send pictures. Dad has a picture on his dresser of me when I was eight. Mom has a picture of herself.

  “The first time I went away to school, she forgot to come get me. Dad had to charter a flight. Man, was he mad. But it worked out. He got a pilot’s license so he could always pick me up, and as soon as I could, he made sure I was licensed, as well. He’ll be surprised I’m bringing someone home.”

  Griffin took the lead as he moved into a gallop. “Why?” he called back.

  “Because,” she said as she caught up with him. “I’ve never brought a plus one home.”

  With her by his side, they rode straight toward a little place he wanted to show her. Mistletoe Canyon.

  The wind stilled as the canyon walls began to climb on either side of them. Here, trees were sheltered and could grow tall and straight. Griffin’s father had been fascinated with trees as a boy and mail-ordered dozens that weren’t supposed to survive in the dry Texas climate. Hardwoods, evergreens, tall pines, colorful oak and even a circle of magnolia trees thirty feet high. He’d blown money he didn’t have to spare on wells to keep them watered. This was his boxed canyon valley. His slice of heaven on earth.

  “My dad loved trees almost as much as he loved this land. I think he would have been happy living in the mountains, but his home, his land, was here. Not all he planted in the canyon survived, but most did. He liked seeing all the colors of leaves in the fall.”

  She rode closer to an oak, raised her hand to touch the last dying red leaves. “They’re beautiful. What did he use this place for?”

  “Nothing really. I guess it was his church. In this part of the state, the land looks pretty lonely in winter, but Dad liked to ride out here. He used to say he could hear nature sleeping in this canyon.”

  She slid down from her horse and picked up an armful of leaves, tossing them up. Making a rainbow waterfall. Her laughter was light and free now.

  Griffin couldn’t hide his smile. This Sunlan he could learn to love. Not the one who was bossy and had to run her own life. Not the one who was successful. But this one.

  He joined her in the almost knee-deep leaves. They walked among the forest of sheltered trees. He took her hand and wondered if she felt the same peace here as he did.

  She deserved more than a business agreement for a marriage, but he had a feeling that was all she’d accept. Maybe here, where mistletoe hung green on winter branches and nature’s colors blanketed the ground, she could relax. Maybe let her guard down just enough for him to get to know her.

  “I have trees surrounding my place in Colorado. We could ride through them when you visit. Up in the mountains the seasons change so much that I never get tired of watching the show.”

  She’d said visit, not live. “I’d like that. Maybe someday I will visit.”

  He stopped under an old live oak that had probably grown next to the stream for over a hundred years. It always reminded him of an old man, bent over, thin but still alive. The roots crawled out like arthritic fingers as if hanging on to life.

  She circled among the low branches.

  “Somehow, maybe when some tree was shipped, we got a bit of mistletoe,” he said. “It grows here because the canyons block a bit of the cold.” Slices of sunshine flickered in her hair as he came closer.

  She looked up and saw a green ball on one of the branches. “Nature’s Christmas ornament. You don’t mind them, do you, Griffin?”

  “Not at all.” He could only see her. If possible, she grew more beautiful each time he saw her. “You mind if I kiss you under the mistletoe? For tradition’s sake.”

  “For tradition’s sake.” She leaned forward, offering her cheek.

  He waited. “A real kiss, Sunshine.”

  She turned slightly. “Why not?”

  For once Griffin didn’t give her a light pretend kiss, and to his surprise, she kissed him back. One long kiss, flavored with caring, mixed with a bit of passion.

  When she broke the kiss, she didn’t pull away and he held her against him.

  “For tradition’s sake,” she whispered, “would you kiss me like that at our wedding and every Christmas, just to remind me I’m still alive?”

  He wanted to say he’d kiss her every night like that, but he didn’t think that was what she wanted. Sunlan was a woman who had to be in control and if she was going to allow herself to slip now and then, he’d be there to catch her.

  When they rode back at sundown, there was a peace, an acceptance of each other that hadn’t been between them before.

  Elliot and Cooper were sitting on the porch waiting for him.

  “We’re going out to dinner,” Cooper announced before Griffin and Sunlan reached the steps.

  Griffin fought down a string of swear words. He’d be happy with a beer and chips for supper. “All right,” was all he could muster. “I’ll wash up.”

  To his surprise, Sunlan followed him to his bedroom door.

  “I have a few things to discuss while you’re getting ready. Do you mind? I’d rather not talk in front of your brothers.” She stepped into his room as if she’d been invited.

  “No. I don’t mind.” He waved his hand to the only chair. Hell, he should be happy she’d walked into his room, but in truth he did mind. No woman he’d ever dated had been in his room. This one place in the house was his private space. The brothers had agreed on that for as long as he could remember. Every other room in the house was common space.

  He looked around. No underwear on the floor. The bed made. Most of his books in order. After living like a pig his freshman year of college, Griffin had decided to keep command over his living space.

  She also looked from one corner of the room to the other. “You like everything in its place?”

  “Yes.” Somehow he feared she was asking a trick question, but his brain was too tired to figure it out.

  “That why you wanted me here at Maverick Ranch? Everything in its place?”

  “You are not a thing, Sunlan.” He was too tired to argue.

  “Good answer.” She sat down on his bed.

  Griffin stepped into the small bathroom but didn’t bother to close the door. As she talked, he pulled off his shirt and began to wash the dirt off his hands and face. She hadn’t mentioned his idea about having a real wedding night, so he guessed that was off the tabl
e.

  Her very proper tone shattered his thoughts that had nothing to do with being proper. “The local preacher can only marry us on the twenty-third of December. He has services on Christmas Eve.”

  “That suits me.” He leaned back enough to smile at her.

  “About who comes?” She pulled out a piece of paper from her vest pocket.

  She paused so long he asked, “Everything all right?”

  “My father hates weddings, but he’ll probably come just to pout and tell anyone who will listen about how much he hated all his weddings.”

  “All right,” Griffin said slowly. The idea didn’t sound fun, but he’d play along. If Winston Krown wanted to gripe, it wasn’t Griffin’s problem. “What about your mother?”

  “She’s in Spain, and she told me last July that she wouldn’t step foot in the States until my father died. But she always says that. Then she makes a scene when she shows up as if she’d planned all along to surprise everyone. They have a big fight and she leaves again.”

  “So you are inviting one to the wedding. Your dad. Maybe your mother?”

  “No, I’ve a few friends from Misty Bend who might make the trip. I told them about you before I left. Lloyd, my caretaker, said he was happy you were a cowboy, but couldn’t I find one that wasn’t from Texas.” She smiled. “I told him I tried, but they grow them strong here in Texas.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to like Lloyd.”

  She ignored him. “The Franklins think they can put them all up for a few nights. Knowing my dad, he’ll come in just in time to walk me down the aisle and leave before the cake is cut.”

  “That’s fine.” He decided he’d better shave while she was talking. Who knows, she might decide to kiss him again.

  Surlan moved to the bathroom door, leaned against the frame and crossed her arms. He watched her slow smile in the mirror. “The Franklins plan to invite the whole town to sit on your side.”

  “What?” He nicked his chin.

  She moved in and started trying to help him dab away the blood. “Don’t worry. I convinced them you only wanted family.”

  Griffin relaxed and simply enjoyed her being so close. “Good. That makes two on my side, a few on yours and us.”

  “Sounds like the perfect number.” She kissed his chin and moved away.

  He washed off the leftover cream and combed his hair. By the time he pulled on a shirt and sweater, she was on to the topic of their honeymoon.

  “We’re going to take a honeymoon?”

  “Sure. I could fly you up to Misty Bend. It’s beautiful this time of year. We can relax for a few days.”

  “So...I’m definitely invited to your place?”

  “Of course. Any time you want to come. I have a guesthouse no one ever stays in.”

  He heard what she wasn’t saying. The honeymoon wouldn’t change anything about their agreement. That’s what she wanted. That’s what he’d agreed to.

  He offered his hand and her fingers laced in his. “Come on, Sunshine, I’ll take you to the finest restaurant in Crossroads.”

  She acted like she was dusting off her jeans. Even working in the barn most of the day, she still looked like a model stepping out of the pages of a catalog.

  “You look great.”

  “Then let’s go to Dorothy’s. I’m starving.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Johnsons

  A WEEK BEFORE THANKSGIVING, Jamie mentioned she’d never cooked a Thanksgiving dinner, and Wyatt said he couldn’t remember having one, except at the mess hall.

  “Since I’ll be back to work on Thanksgiving Day, I’ll miss it all around.” Just a statement, he thought. Not asking for any sympathy. He’d picked his life, and he didn’t have any regrets. He’d enlisted at eighteen and credited the man he’d become to the army, not his parents.

  In a few more months, he’d have his twenty in. If he decided to get out of the army, he’d saved enough money to start a little computer repair business. Or maybe he’d find a job with a big tech company. He planned to settle down somewhere quiet and just enjoy life. On weekends, he’d learn to fish, or maybe take up surfing. Maybe he’d re-up with a bonus and wait another ten years to relax. He might buy a bike and see the country, or he might come back here and build his own place at this very lake.

  Jamie pointed her finger at him and announced, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s have Thanksgiving early. We could do it this weekend and then when you’re flying back to work, you’ll be stuffed.”

  He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but in truth he liked the idea. Growing up, his mother’s idea of Thanksgiving was takeout in front of a football game. “Sure, we can look up recipes. How hard could it be? We could spend the next few nights planning.”

  When he picked her up after school on Friday, they went shopping in Lubbock, then stayed to eat dinner and walk around the mall. After spending his days at the lake and helping out at the Maverick Ranch, all the people in the mall seemed loud and bothersome, but Jamie wanted to shop.

  “I have to have a new dress to wear to Thanksgiving dinner.” She laughed. “And of course, we have to find you an apron.”

  She rushed in to explore one of the women’s stores, and he wandered into the shop next door. The teashop was giving away samples. He thought he’d try them all until he found one he could tolerate. If she liked tea so much, the least he could do every evening was join her for a cup.

  Twenty minutes later, when she came out with a dress in a bag, he also carried a bag. “What did you buy?” she asked.

  “Tea,” he said, proud of himself for finding one he liked. “You?”

  Jamie pointed to the dress in the window. “I found that one in my size.”

  “I’ll show you later what else I got, if you’ll model your dress.” He glanced at the mannequin in the window. “I’m betting you’ll look great in that one.”

  She blushed and seemed to forget about his bag. “I hope so.”

  He thought of commenting that with her curves she’d look better in any dress than some stick of a mannequin ever could, but he didn’t want her to think he’d been staring at her body. They had an easy friendship going. The quiet nights on the lake were quickly becoming his favorite leave ever.

  The heartwarming movies she watched took his mind off the mission to come. The slow pace of his days gave his heart a rest and almost left the nagging fears behind. He’d been lucky. He’d been hurt a few times, but he’d always walked away. On this next mission, they’d be planting communications that would save many lives if they all worked. This time, the risk to him and the team would be greater. The odds of them all coming back weren’t good. All the team knew it, but they didn’t talk about it.

  He smiled at Jamie, pushing his dark thoughts behind him and he studied her.

  The idea of a woman having curves was growing on him. They said men had types of women they liked—with long legs or big breasts—but Wyatt knew his type was shifting.

  On the drive home, Jamie held their two takeout peach cobblers in her lap as she planned the big holiday dinner. She claimed she wanted every side dish that she’d ever heard might be served on Thanksgiving. He swore he’d be the assistant cook to whatever she thought sounded good.

  Like two kids playing house, they took on the challenge at dawn Saturday morning. He’d warned her that his cooking skills were weak. Within an hour, she’d declared them nonexistent.

  They dedicated three hours to making pies. Two out of three turned out and he admitted he really didn’t like pumpkin anyway. All afternoon they worked on what she called prep, and the next morning the serious cooking began.

  With both of them in the small kitchen, they bumped into each other so frequently it finally became routine. She’d tap her hip against him to move him out of the way. He’d circle his arms around her, hands over hers, as he learned e
ach step of kneading dough.

  Wyatt recognized the dance they were playing. The casual touching. The laughter. The easy conversation. She even agreed to take a break while the winter sun flooded the back porch.

  Both carefully climbed into the big hammock and relaxed on their backs, touching from shoulder to knees. He said he planned to sleep, but she never stopped talking. He finally shifted and offered his arm for a pillow. She cuddled close, saying she was cold.

  Progression of the game, he thought. Getting to know the other’s touch, nearness. He liked the feel of her so close, but he knew it would never go any further.

  The only problem was, he wasn’t sure she knew the game. She was just having fun. Just getting warm. To her, they were buddies, pals, friends, like all the study partners she talked about in college. He wondered if those guys in college had thought she wasn’t interested in being more than friends. Maybe that was why they all finally walked away.

  Something told him she’d never lowered her voice in invitation or given a look with those big eyes of hers steeped in passion.

  When he finally pulled them out of the hammock and back into the kitchen, she gave him a quick hug. A friend’s hug. Another touch. Nothing more.

  “Time to go back to work.” She laughed when he frowned.

  While the turkey baked, they drank spiced cider and talked about growing up. She told him about her college days when money was tight and panic came at the end of every semester. He told her about the army’s training and how he’d picked up a degree online, a few classes at a time. But neither mentioned old lovers or broken hearts. Something about being with her made him feel like a newborn. Neither seemed to have any old relationship scars.

  Again and again, he reminded himself to keep it light. He’d be gone in three days. He couldn’t give her forever and anything less seemed a cheap gift.

  When the table was set, he dressed in his uniform and she changed into her pretty blue dress. He almost wished they’d gone out. It would have been fun to show her off. But then he realized it was just fine if they were alone. She was all the company he wanted today.