A Mistletoe Christmas: Santa's Mistletoe Mistake / A Merry Little Wedding / Mistletoe Magic

Libby’s hand fell to the bed and she smiled with sleepy secretiveness. “You just wait. I wrote a note to Santa to tell him what we want, but I didn’t give it to you to mail. I mailed it all by myself so you wouldn’t know the secret.”

“Enough talk of Santa and secrets,” Melody said. “Now it’s time to sleep.”

Libby nodded and closed her eyes, and before Melody left the side of her bed, Libby fell asleep.

Whatever Libby had asked Santa for Christmas, she hoped she had it in the trunk of her car, because there was nothing worse than a disappointed six-year-old at Christmas time.

It was just after eleven when she’d wrapped the final present and tucked it back into the trunk of her car. Still wide-awake, she sat down on the sofa and stared at the Christmas tree that had yet to be decorated.

Christmas Eve she and Libby would pull out the ornaments and tinsel, the twinkling lights and the angel to dress the tree. The past two Christmases had been bittersweet, as they’d pulled out ornaments that Seth had bought to make the perfect cowboy Christmas tree.

There were hats and boots, saddles and horses, and each and every one of them reminded both Libby and Melody of what it had been like to be a real, complete family.

Maybe this year she wouldn’t use those particular ornaments. Instead they’d string popcorn and use ribbon and mistletoe and make aluminum-foil stars and do an old-fashioned tree.

Why continue reminding themselves of what they’d lost? New beginnings and new decorations, she thought drowsily. The impromptu meal with Jake had been nice, but she would never seriously entertain a relationship with a cowboy again.

Still, as she fell asleep, it wasn’t visions of sugarplums that danced in her head; rather, it was the hot, handsome Jake who invaded her dreams.

CHAPTER TWO

“LIBBY, YOU CAN’T wear your tap shoes to town,” Melody told her daughter for the third time.

“But I like the way they sound on the sidewalks,” Libby replied.

Melody gathered her coat around her and sat on the sofa. “You have two choices. You can either change your shoes and we’ll go to town, or you can keep your tap shoes on and we’ll just stay home. It’s your decision.”

Libby frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go change my shoes.” She quickly disappeared down the hallway to her bedroom.

Melody had learned long ago that Libby responded best when given the option to make her own decision, and usually Libby made the right decision when faced with choices and consequences.

Melody was looking forward to spending the day wandering in and out of the shops. There was nothing particular she wanted or needed to buy, but if something caught her or Libby’s eye she had a little mad money tucked into her purse.

Libby returned, this time wearing a pair of black boots that were perfect for the cold weather and a long day of walking. She pulled on her bright blue coat, and together mother and daughter left the house.

“Do you think it will snow before Christmas?” Libby asked as she looked out the passenger window of the car.

“According to the weatherman, we’re supposed to have a white Christmas.”

Libby clapped her hands together. “Then on Christmas Day we can make a snowman with a carrot nose and red gumdrops for a mouth and some of my blue sequins for eyes.”

Melody laughed. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this snowman.”

“Everything is going to be just perfect this Christmas,” Libby replied with a smug smile. “You just wait until you see what Santa Claus brings for us, and then we’ll both be so happy.”

“Then I can’t wait,” Melody replied lightly, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was her daughter expected to happen when Santa came.

By the time she found a parking place smack-dab in the middle of Main Street, Libby had already moved on to talking about the different stores she wanted to visit.

It was just after ten and already the sidewalks bustled with people. An energy filled the air, the energy of only seven days left until Christmas Day. While most of the people who shared the sidewalks walked with purpose, as if knowing what needed to be bought and determined to get it done, Libby and Melody walked hand in hand and at a slower pace.

“Carrie’s Christmas Shop first,” Libby said as they approached the store.

Their entry into the store was announced by the tinkle of bells, and the scent of cinnamon and spices filled the shop. “Mmm, it smells good in here,” Libby said, and then raced forward to watch a miniature train making its way around the base of a beautifully decorated tree.

“Isn’t it cute, Mom?” Libby said. “And the tree is so pretty.”

“It is, but remember that I told you that this year we’re having an old-fashioned tree? We’ll spend Christmas Eve having so much fun decorating it.”

“Hi, Melody,” Carrie, the proprietor of the store, greeted her. Carrie’s thirteen-year-old daughter took dance lessons at Melody’s.

“Hey, Carrie. Libby and I decided to do a little window-shopping today, but I have a feeling I’m not going to get out of here without buying whatever it is that smells so wonderful,” Melody replied.

“It’s probably the cinnamon candles. Don’t they smell lovely?”

Melody cast a quick glance at her daughter, who had drifted off to a display of teddy bears. “Remember, Libby, we don’t touch.”

“I know.” Libby shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I’m just looking.”

“She’s so cute,” Carrie said, and sidled closer to Melody. “I heard a little tidbit of gossip this morning that was very interesting. It had to do with you and Jake Hanson.”

Melody felt her cheeks fill with the warmth of a blush. “It was just an impromptu quick dinner at the café. Goodness, news travels fast around here.”

Carrie laughed. “Especially when it involves Jake Hanson and any woman. He’s been the town hermit since his wife died five years ago.”

“Oh, he’s a widower?” Melody hadn’t heard about him having had a wife.

“Stacy died in a car accident.... It was just around this time of the year.” Carrie frowned. “As I remember, it was a bad winter and we had an ice storm. Stacy had come into town to do some last-minute shopping, and on her way home a semitruck scissored in front of her and she hit it.”

“How tragic.” Melody’s heart squeezed tight as she thought about the man she’d shared her meal with the night before. No wonder he’d said he hated Christmas. She would forever hate rodeos because it had been at one of those events that Seth had died. But it was much easier for her to avoid rodeos than for Jake to avoid Christmas, especially in this town.

Melody was almost grateful when the bell over the door tinkled, announcing new shoppers in the shore. She found Libby looking at a tree-topper angel that turned bright colors like the lights on a Vegas casino.

“Isn’t she beautiful, Mom?”

Tacky was closer to the word Melody might have used.

“Wait a minute and she’ll turn purple. You know how much I love purple.”

Melody thought of the angel that had always topped their tree, a beautiful white one whose feathered wings had become rather bedraggled through the years.

“I’ll tell you what. How about I buy one of those scented candles for me and for you we’ll get this angel to top our tree from now on?”

“Oh, Mom, thank you!” Libby threw her arms around Melody’s waist for a quick hug and then grabbed one of the boxed angels and held it tight against her chest.

So they’d have an old-fashioned Christmas tree with a Vegas stripper on the top, Melody thought as she paid for the two items. Definitely new beginnings, she reminded herself.

She and Libby stepped back outside into the bracing December air, and she tried to put out of her mind the handsome face of Jake Hanson, who she now knew had lost at love just as she had.

* * *

JAKE HAD NO idea what he was doing, but when he saw the dark-haired woman in the bright red coat with the little girl by her side, he knew he’d come to town specifically for the possibility of running into Melody again.

He’d been chased out of the house by the silence that for a long time had felt comforting, but in the past few months had grown more and more oppressive.

As he’d driven by Melody’s house, he hadn’t seen her car parked outside, but he hoped to run into her in town. He had enjoyed his dinner with her and discovered a hunger to see her again.

It had surprised him, the desire to spend more time with her. He’d sworn when he lost Stacy that no woman would ever hold any place in his life again. But wanting to spend a little time with somebody and inviting them fully into his life were two very different things, he reminded himself as he hurried to catch up to Melody and her daughter.

“Hey,” he said as he touched her on the shoulder.

Both Melody and her daughter turned, Melody’s face lighting with a smile and her daughter’s face holding distinct suspicion as she eyed him from the tip of his hat to the toes of his boots. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Libby, this is Mr. Hanson. He lives next door to us,” Melody said. “Surely you’ve seen him on his horse in the pasture next to our house before.”

“I don’t like him. Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She grabbed Melody’s hand and attempted to drag her away.

Melody looked at her daughter in obvious shock. “Libby, you’re being very rude. Now, you apologize to Mr. Hanson.”

“Sorry,” Libby said, but the mutinous pout of her lower lip indicated otherwise.

“Apology accepted, and you can call me Jake, although I have to say that I’ve never had anyone not like me before they got to know me.” He glanced back at Melody. “So where are you two headed?”

“We are doing a little window-shopping,” Melody replied.

He gestured to the shopping bags in her hand. “Looks as if the window got the best of you.”

She laughed, and for a moment, in the sound of her laughter, he didn’t feel the cold wintry air nor notice the other people who passed them on the sidewalk. He was filled with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time—the warmth of pleasure in the simple sound of a woman’s laughter.

“Where are you headed now?” he asked.

“I’d like to check out the store in the old Victorian house at the end of Main Street,” she replied.

“Mistletoe Magic. It’s a new age kind of store, but I happen to know that the owner, Finley McCarthy, is selling a magic potion this year just for kids.”

“A magic potion?” Suspicion darkened Libby’s blue eyes as she looked up at him.

“You sprinkle it on your pillow on Christmas Eve and it’s supposed to bring you dreams of all the toys and things you want for Christmas.” He’d actually visited the shop the week before when the silence of his life had driven him out of the house.

“Mom, we need to get some of that potion,” Libby said.

“It definitely sounds like a must-have for Christmas,” Melody agreed.

“Do you mind if I walk with you?” he asked. There he was again, insinuating himself where he probably didn’t belong.

“That would be nice,” Melody agreed. Libby huffed in obvious disapproval and walked three steps ahead of them as they continued down the sidewalk. “I apologize for Libby’s behavior. I’ve never seen her act out this way.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to share her mother for a little while,” he replied easily.

Melody frowned thoughtfully, her gaze remaining on the little girl just ahead of them. “Maybe. In the past couple of years she hasn’t had to share my time or attention with anyone other than my dance students, and she knows my time with them is important.”

“She’s a cute one,” he said.

Melody gazed up at him, her blue eyes shining brightly. “She’s much cuter when her lower lip isn’t stuck out in a pout.”

“She’s fine,” he replied easily as they moved toward the front door of the three-story Victorian home with its shop on the lower level. “Maybe I can find a little magic potion in here that will make little girls like me just a bit.”

He opened the door and the three of them entered the shop, which held herbs and crystals and incense and oils. Finley McCarthy greeted them, her long blond hair held back with a beaded headband and half a dozen bracelets jangling on her wrists.

As she took Libby and Melody to show them all the wares she had to offer, he trailed behind them, admiring the shiny length of Melody’s hair. It fell in loose waves below her shoulders, making him wonder what those strands might feel like wrapped around his fingers.

The thought nearly caused him to stumble, and at the same time Libby turned around to give him another wary glance. He had a feeling if he intended to spend any time with Melody he would somehow have to find a way to win over the petite miniature next to her.

He frowned again, trying to recall exactly when he had decided he wanted to spend more time with his lovely neighbor. He watched as she and Libby smelled some of the oils and laughed as both of them turned up their noses at one particular scent.

They left the store with the magic potion for Libby. “It’s almost noon. Do you ladies have plans for lunch?” he asked.

“Mom and I are going home for lunch,” Libby said firmly. “We’re going to eat stuff that cowboys don’t like.”

“Well, then, I guess that leaves me out,” he said smoothly before Melody could reprimand Libby again for bad manners. “I have heard that tonight there’s going to be some caroling going on at the gazebo. I was thinking it might be fun to hitch a couple of horses to my wagon and fill it full of hay and take a ride back into town for the evening fun.”

Libby’s eyes widened with more than a hint of interest. “But I doubt you two would be interested in joining me,” he added.

“We could be interested,” Libby said. “We like horses and hayrides, don’t we, Mom? And maybe we could stop and pick up Megan.” She looked up at Jake. “She lives on Mistletoe Lane and she’s my best friend in the whole wide world.”

Jake rocked back on his heels. “It wouldn’t seem right to have a hayride without a best friend included.”

Libby’s eyes narrowed. “Just because I’d like to go ride in your wagon and go on a hayride doesn’t mean I like you, Cowboy Jake.”

“Libby!” Melody’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment to match the color of her coat.

Jake grinned. “That’s okay. I think maybe we can have some fun even if you don’t like me. Why don’t I plan on picking up the two of you about seven?”

“I can’t imagine why you would want to be so nice to a little girl who shows such bad behavior,” Melody replied. “But I have to admit the idea of a wagon ride into town to listen to people caroling sounds like fun. We’ll be ready, and maybe as we eat our girl-food lunch, we’ll talk about a little attitude adjustment.” She released a sigh that Jake found charming.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you two at seven, and I’m sure we’re going to have a fine time.”

“We’ll be ready,” Melody replied.

As he walked away from the two females, his heart beat faster than it had in a very long time.

Something about Melody stirred a spark of life inside him that he hadn’t even known still existed before sitting down across from her at the café the day before.

He couldn’t let his heart be vulnerable ever again, but surely there was no harm in just enjoying some time with Melody and her daughter.

If nothing else, maybe their company would help him get through this holiday, which for the past five years had meant nothing more to him than loss and heartache.

He thought about all the things he needed to take care of in order to get the old wagon out and appropriately bedecked for the night’s festivities and hurried toward his truck, a foreign excitement flooding his veins as he thought of the night to come.

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