Mistletoe Magic

by Fern Michaels

  Behind the counter, he clicked a few keys, then, without looking up, said, “I know, I know, I hear it all the time. And just so you know, I only dress up because Amanda and Ashley expect me to.”

  A mind reader, too? She had no clue who Amanda and Ashley were, but figured if he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

  “I would’ve never guessed,” she added. “But you do look the part. The Santa at Macy’s in New York City doesn’t look quite as realistic.”

  “So they say. Now”—he stared at the monitor—“Ms. Shepard, it says here you’ve reserved the Gracie’s Way cabin. You’ll love the view.”

  “Uh, yes.” She didn’t realize the cabin had a name. “I want to spend the days skiing and the nights relaxing.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place. Gracie’s Way is smack-dab in the center of the mountain. Has its own lift, too, but I assume you already knew that.” He turned his back to her.

  No, I didn’t, she thought, but he doesn’t need to know just how unprepared I am. If she’d been thinking straight, she would have booked her flight directly into Telluride, but she’d had other things on her mind.

  “Of course, it’s just what I wanted,” she said, winging it and filling the silence while the old guy removed several sheets from the printer behind him.

  While he busied himself with the paperwork, Angelica took the time to view her surroundings. On the wall to her right was a giant rock fireplace. A log chose that moment to fall from the top of a large stack. Red, yellow, and orange sparks shot out like a miniature shower of fireworks. She took a deep breath, loving the heady scent of wood smoke.

  A roomy dark brown sofa was placed directly across from the massive structure. A table made out of logs was covered with magazines and a few paperback novels, inviting one to sit and relax. Angelica imagined that during business hours, guests took advantage of the charming arrangement while they enjoyed the warmth from the fire. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the fireplace. She guessed that, during the day, the view of the mountains was out of this world. But she wasn’t here to stay in the registration area and knew her view would certainly rival this one, or so the travel agent said when she’d made the booking.

  The old man fanned the white sheets of paper across the counter, reminding Angelica of the snow angels she used to make in the snow when she was a kid. The memory made her grin.

  “If you’ll just sign here, here, and here,” he said, adding, “and we’ll need a credit card and your driver’s license.”

  He turned the papers around for her signature. She scribbled her name, removed a credit card and her license from her wallet. He took them, then turned away from her. She observed him as he made copies of her identification. Soft tan khakis and a black and gold flannel shirt looked to be well worn, comfortable. On his feet were a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots. Well, I am out West, she thought.

  He placed a single-page map in front of her. “Okay, young lady, it looks like you’re all set. If you’ll just follow this road”—he traced a single black line with a bright yellow highlighter pen—“all the way to this intersection, then turn right. You can’t miss the cabin. The lights are on, and there’s coffee fixins, but no food. You’ll want to get down to the market first thing in the morning if you want eggs and milk and the like. Food sells out fast, just so you know.” He nodded at the exit, his way of dismissing her.

  So focused on arriving safely, she hadn’t given the first thought to food. She should have bought a few basic necessities when she’d stopped for gas, but again shoulda, coulda, woulda didn’t cut it.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said before stepping out into the bracing night air. She gave a half wave to the old man, then trekked back across the parking lot.

  Tiny snowflakes swirled beneath the amber glow from the lights. An old beat-up pickup truck pulled into the lot, blocking further viewing of the snowflakes’ late-night performance. Probably works here, she thought as she walked carefully across the lot. No one in his right mind would be out in this kind of weather unless he absolutely had to.

  A loud meowlike sound startled her. As she turned around to see where the noise was coming from, she lost her footing. Flailing about as she searched for something to hold on to in order to break her fall, she suddenly found two large hands wrapped around her waist. Stunned at the speed of her rescuer, she turned around to look and see who’d saved her from total humiliation—sort of.

  Describing her rescuer as tall, dark, and handsome in no way did justice to the stranger who gently helped her to regain her footing. Stunned by the sudden turn of events, Angelica took a moment to gather herself, to recover from whatever it was she needed to recover from. Never one to be at a loss for words, she couldn’t come up with a single syllable as she stared at . . . this . . . classic Greek god who was still holding onto her arm.

  “Miss, are you all right?”

  All she could manage was a slight nod as she stood there, blank, amazed, and very shaken. Finally she found her voice. “Uh, yes, I’m okay, just . . . well, I’m fine,” she said, her tone almost defiant. Why does this strange man make me feel defenseless, and totally aware that I’m a woman? It was entirely out of character for her, but she was out of character. She was completely out of her element there in that . . . ice palace. I should have stayed in the city.

  “If you’re sure?” the man said, his voice sounding impatient.

  Who is this guy? And why the attitude? Angelica wondered. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she turned to face her rescuer. What she saw momentarily threw her off guard again. She’d spent plenty of time around some of the sexiest men alive—she was an actress, after all, and it was part of the job. But this . . . this guy defied the rules. He didn’t own a sports car if that rusted old truck was his. His clothing didn’t appear to be custom made, and Angelica couldn’t forget the fact that he was there so late. More than likely, he worked at the resort and had been on his way inside the registration building when he’d rescued her.

  Lucky for me.

  Forcing herself to step away from him, Angelica tossed her hair over her shoulder, something she’d learned from improv, then she put her hands on her hips. If that didn’t reek of confidence, she didn’t know what would.

  “Actually, I am more than all right. I am on vacation, and I plan to enjoy every single minute of it. It’s gotten off to a bad start, but I’m sure it can only go uphill from here.”

  She was about to walk to her SUV when the man placed a strong hand on her forearm. She shivered, and it wasn’t from the outside temperature. “You’re sure you can drive? You look a bit rough.”

  Had she heard him right? Did he say she looked rough? Taking a minute to absorb his words, her first response was to tell him to kiss off and mind his own business. Her second response was to tell him to take a flying leap, but gazing at the giant mountains that surrounded her, that might not be such a good idea. Especially if the guy had issues.

  Knowing she couldn’t continue to stand there and stare, she found her voice. “I’m quite capable of driving, thank you very much. I was simply startled by that noise. I’m sure I heard a wild cat or something. Did you hear anything?” she asked, and gazed at his hand, which still lingered on her forearm. Apparently, he realized he was still touching her and quickly removed his hand, stuffing it in his pocket. He appears to be uncomfortable, Angelica thought. Good. Let him stew for a bit. He would probably look a bit rough himself if he had just driven for almost seven hours in not so perfect conditions.

  He nodded. “It was Leon. My cat. He hates riding in the truck. Sorry he scared you. Watch your step, this ice can be treacherous,” he added before proceeding to walk toward the registration building.

  What does he think I am, she wondered as she watched him walk away. A kid?

  No, she was definitely not a kid. A kid would not be looking at a man’s rear view with such blatant lust.

  Chapter 6

  Parker pressed the doorbell and waite
d. He’d left the truck running, with the heater cranked up to high for Leon, but cracked the window an inch, just in case. He hated arriving at such a late hour, but it couldn’t be helped. The old Ford pickup truck maxed out at fifty-five miles an hour. After stopping for gas and a quick bite, he’d taken his time, and it had gotten away from him. It had been almost midnight when he’d pulled into the deserted parking lot at Maximum Glide.

  He’d only just stepped out of his truck when he’d seen the woman slip when she heard Leon’s cry of misery. Lucky for them both, instinct kicked in, and he’d caught her in the nick of time. Another second and she would’ve smacked her head against the icy asphalt. The last thing he wanted to do on his self-imposed sabbatical was step back into the role of medical doctor. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to return to Angel of Mercy at all. Maybe he’d just enjoy being a ski bum for a while. He and Leon could hang tight on the slopes indefinitely. He wondered if they made skis for cats. Something to look into later.

  Before he could pursue the thought of life without the responsibilities of being a doctor, the door opened. A heavyset man with a white beard and rosy cheeks stood to the side. “You must be Dr. North. Max said you were coming this evening. I figured you’d be late, too. The weather and such.”

  Parker smiled, then stepped inside out of the cold. The old man held out a hand to him. “Thanks for waiting,” Parker said. “I just took my time; I guess I should have phoned ahead.”

  “Not to worry. I’m up. Just checked in that actress from New York City. Poor girl drove all the way from Denver.”

  “She must be the woman I saw in the parking lot,” Parker said out loud.

  “I would suspect she is. Now, I have instructions to personally drive you to your condo. Max said you would probably be arriving in a beat-up old truck that wouldn’t make the climb.”

  Parker laughed. Figures. Max remembered everything. “Yeah, I still have the old truck, but I’m sure she can make it up the mountain. There’s no need for you to bother. It’s late and cold. If you’ll just give me the directions, I’m sure I can find my way.” He didn’t add that he had an angry feline in the truck. No, he’d keep that tidbit of info to himself. As long as Max was okay with it, then that’s all that mattered.

  The old man, unnamed at that point, pondered his words. “If you’re sure. I’d hate for you to get lost. The weather gets mighty cold at high altitudes. You sure your truck can make it?”

  No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure of anything other than that he was dead tired and wanted to lie down and forget about the day, but Parker wasn’t totally without social skills. “I’m sure. She’s in the best shape ever. Just had a new transmission installed last winter.”

  The old man nodded. “Yep, that’ll make it up the mountain, no doubt. Now, if you’ll just look at this.” He produced a single sheet of paper. “If you follow this road”—he traced a thin white line with a yellow highlighter pen—“then turn here. The condo unit Max has reserved for you is the best. The penthouse. It’s smack-dab in the middle of the mountain. You’ll have access to the private ski lift. There are skis and boots of every size waiting for you. Max wasn’t sure you’d have them, so he took a few guesses and had Candy Lee pick out several pairs. She works at the Snow Zone—that’s the ski shop around the corner. The kid picked out the best of the best and left them next to the fireplace. There’s a boot warmer inside, too. Make sure and use it. Most people don’t and then don’t find out until it’s too late that it’s lots of work puttin’ on a cold boot. Boots slide right on when they’re warm. Remember that.”

  “I will, thanks,” Parker said. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that but was glad for the reminder.

  “Well, then you’d better get goin’ while you can. I’ll let Max know you arrived first thing in the mornin’. He said he was coming to pick you up for supper tomorrow. I’m sure Grace and Ella will be with him, too. Probably the other girls, as well.”

  Parker stopped.

  Other girls?

  It would be just like Max to try and fix him up without giving him a chance to explain that the last thing on his mind was women. No, he’d better give the old man a message for Max. “Tell Max I’m flying solo now and prefer to keep it that way. I don’t want to see any girls,” he said, a bit abruptly, but he wanted the man to understand that when he relayed his message to Max, he was serious. He was there to relax and reevaluate his future, not entangle himself in a winter romance.

  The old guy chuckled, hearty and warm. He shook his big head from side to side. “He didn’t tell you about the girls, did he?”

  “No, he neglected to tell me about the girls.”

  “They’re Stephanie’s kids. She’s the manager at Snow Zone. They usually ride up with Max and Grace when they get the chance. Ashley and Amanda. Both smart as a whip. Max’ll want you to ski with them while you’re here, too.”

  Parker felt as though he’d been poked with a pin, and all the life drained from him.

  Kids? The girls were kids!

  Maybe Max had changed after all.

  “Sure, I guess I’m up for meeting a couple of kids,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Relief flowed like oxygen throughout his veins.

  “You best get started. It takes about forty-five minutes to make it up the mountain in the daylight, a little longer at night.”

  Parker nodded, took the sheet of paper with the map off the counter. He turned for the door, then stopped. “You never told me your name.”

  The older man shifted his eyes up, then down. “No, I reckon I didn’t.”

  Suspicious, Parker waited. The man shoved his large hands inside his pants pockets. “Aww, you’ll just laugh like everyone else does. The name’s Nick. Nicholas Star.”

  For a second, Parker thought the old guy was teasing him, but when he saw the red flush creep across his face, he knew he was serious. Having a somewhat unusual name himself, Parker just nodded, then spoke. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Star. I’ll see you around.”

  Blue eyes sparkled, and Parker would’ve sworn Mr. Star’s belly shook just like Clement C. Moore described in “ ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

  Chapter 7

  Angelica pulled off to the side of the road, allowing a semi-truck to get in front of her. It had been virtually blinding her, its glowing headlights shining in her rearview mirror. Pulling back onto the winding road, she crept up the mountain, careful to keep her speed low in case she hit a patch of ice. Though the SUV had four-wheel drive, she was not anxious to use it. No, she would take her time. It wasn’t as if she had a schedule to keep. She glanced at the clock on the dash. Almost one in the morning. Smiling, Angelica mused that if she were in the city, she would be going out for breakfast with friends right now. They’d be lucky to get to bed before sunrise. She’d kept up this routine for so many years, she wondered if she would be able to adjust her internal clock. Given the time difference, it shouldn’t be too hard, but again, she had no curtain call, no one to make any demands on her time. She was totally on her own, without responsibilities, for the first time in her adult life.

  Grinning, she shifted the SUV into low gear. She could get used to this, but if anything, despite her chosen career, Angelica was a realist. Being an adult in and of itself was a responsibility. A couple of weeks of snow and fun was her due. She’d worked hard. At thirty-two, she wasn’t about to shuck all responsibilities and give up completely. Give up her career? She might not have a choice. Youth was everything in her business, but there were other areas in her profession to explore.

  She adjusted her rearview mirror and focused her attention on the road. It wasn’t the time to mull over her professional life. The satellite radio station she’d been listening to since she’d left the airport turned to static. “You’d think the reception would be better at this elevation,” she observed out loud. Adjusting the dial to another station, she turned up the volume, singing along as Bing Crosby crooned “White Christma
s.” It was her all-time favorite Christmas song.

  A flash of light coming from behind made her take a glance in her rearview mirror. Whoever was behind her had the bright lights on. “Idiot,” she muttered before tapping on her brakes several times in a row, hoping the driver would notice and realize that the lights were blinding her. Careful to watch the road ahead but aware of the vehicle trailing her, she slowed down. Then she realized the car was stopping when she saw the driver pull to the side of the road. Whoever it was flashed the bright lights several times.

  Not wanting to, but fearing the passenger or passengers in the vehicle might be a mother with children, or someone with a health issue, Angelica did what anyone else in her position would do. She stopped, made a three-point turn, then pulled alongside the other vehicle but kept her cell phone in her hand and did not put the SUV into park. If she had to hightail it back to the registration office, at least she would be heading in the right direction. She hit the button to lower the window.

  When she realized that this was the same old beat-up pickup truck she’d encountered in the parking lot, she wasn’t sure if she should be happy that at least the man wasn’t a total stranger to her. He had prevented her from smacking the asphalt and injuring herself after being startled by that noisy cat of his.

  Angelica watched as he struggled to lower the driver’s window. What she knew about trucks could fill a thimble, but it was enough to judge that this one was probably close to her age. Poor guy, she thought, it must be all he can afford.

  “Hi,” was all she could come up with when she saw his face. She was glad for the darkness.

  “Yeah, hi. I’m thinking this old gal just decided to take a rest. Could you give me a lift to the office?” He smiled at her, and Angelica’s heart rate quickened.

  I’ll take you anywhere, she thought, then mentally smacked herself.