Join USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts this Christmas as she returns for the final installment in her treasured Icicle Falls series

When Muriel Sterling released her new book, A Guide to Happy Holidays, she felt like the queen of Christmas. She’s thrilled when the new tree she ordered online arrives and is eager to show it off—until she gets it out of the box and realizes it’s a mangy dud. But rather than give up on the ugly tree, Muriel decides to make a project out of it. As she pretties up her tree, she realizes there’s a lesson to be learned: everything and everyone has potential. Maybe even her old friend Arnie, who’s loved her for years. Except, she’s not the only one seeing Arnie’s potential...

Meanwhile, Muriel’s ugly-tree project has also inspired her friends. Sienna Moreno is trying to bring out the best in the grouchy man next door, who hates noise, hates kids and hates his new neighbors. And while Olivia Claussen would love to send her obnoxious new daughter-in-law packing, she’s adjusting her attitude and trying to discover what her son sees in the girl. If these women can learn to see the beauty in the “ugly trees” in their lives, perhaps this might turn out to be the happiest holiday yet.

Praise for the novels of Sheila Roberts

“Crisp, charming and amusing storytelling.... A well-crafted plot and distinctive, genuine and endearing characters.... Roberts will delight and charm with her special brand of heartwarming romance.”

—RT Book Reviews on Starting Over on Blackberry Lane

“It’s always great to go back to Icicle Falls.... Sheila Roberts has created a magical place where friendship and love abound, and you never know who’s going to turn up here next. Another enchanting tale.”

—Fresh Fiction on Starting Over on Blackberry Lane

“The latest in Roberts completely charming Icicle Falls series is both a delightful celebration of the joys of small-town life and a richly rewarding romance sweetened with just the right dash of bright humor.”

—Booklist on Home on Apple Blossom Road

“Engaging, sweet, and dusted with humor, this emotional romance tugs at the heartstrings.”

—Library Journal on Home on Apple Blossom Road

“Roberts engages readers from the first page with her colorfully distinctive characters and her amusing storytelling. She expresses the pitfalls that occur through the holiday season with flair and fun. A delightful read.”

—RT Book Reviews on Christmas on Candy Cane Lane

“The Lodge on Holly Road is the ultimate in feel-good family drama and heart-melting romance.”

—USA TODAY

“The common thread and theme of making changes in your life for the better serve as an inspiration and make this novel a real page-turner.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cottage on Juniper Ridge

Christmas in Icicle Falls

Sheila Roberts

For Sandy and her ugly tree.

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for joining me once more in Icicle Falls. This will be our last visit to my favorite mountain town, and I have to admit, I’m a little sorry to say goodbye to all those characters who have become so real to me.

But we’re going out with one final Christmas celebration and a few final pearls of wisdom from our resident wisewoman, Muriel Sterling. Muriel herself is going to learn a few things in this book and I hope you’ll enjoy watching her story unfold. Of course, she’s not the only one who’s going to have a sharp learning curve. Muriel’s old friend Olivia is going to learn an important lesson and maybe so will Sienna Moreno, a newcomer to town who’s got to deal with her grumpy neighbor, a modern-day Scrooge.

So, grab a cup of your favorite holiday tea, and let me spin one final Icicle Falls adventure for you. I hope you enjoy the ride. Merry Christmas and, as Tiny Tim once said, God bless us, everyone!

Sheila

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Title Page

Dedication

Dear Reader

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Our Favorite Recipes from Icicle Falls

Olivia’s Eggnog Muffins

Muriel’s Brie in Puff Pastry Appetizer

Cecily’s Winter Salad

Sienna’s Enchiladas

Muriel’s Fruitcake Cookies

Bailey’s Peppermint Cupcakes

Acknowledgments

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

This is the time of year to offer thanks for all the wonderful people in our lives.

—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

Thanksgiving, a day to spend with family, to give thanks for all your blessings, to...have a close encounter with your cranky neighbor’s shrubbery. Oh, yes, this was how Sienna Moreno wanted to start her day.

Why, oh, why, had she ventured out in her car on an icy street to go to the grocery store for more milk when she could have asked her cousin Rita Reyes to bring it? Rita’s husband, Tito, worked at the Safeway meat department. He could have picked up a gallon.

But oh, no. She had to go out on her cheap no-weather tires. She should have stretched her budget a little further and gotten those snow tires like Rita had told her to do. “Here in the mountains, you want snow tires,” Rita had said.

Yes, she did, especially now as she was skidding toward Mr. Cratchett’s front yard.

“We’re gonna die!” her nine-year-old son, Leo, cried, clapping his hands over his eyes as they slid up and over Mr. Cratchett’s juniper bush. Sienna could hear the branches crunching under them, the bush equivalent of breaking bones. Madre de Dios!

The good news was the bush brought her to a stop. The bad news was she was stopped right in front of Mr. Cratchett’s house.

Maybe she hadn’t damaged the bush too much. “It’s okay, honey. We’re fine,” she assured her son and got out of the car on shaky legs. She probably couldn’t say the same for Mr. Cratchett’s landscaping.

She was barely out of her car before her neighbor stormed down the walk, an ancient navy pea coat thrown on over pajama bottoms stuffed into boots, a knit cap pulled over his sparse gray hair. He was scowling. Great.

“What have you done to my juniper bush?” he demanded.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Cratchett. I hit a slippery spot.”

“You shouldn’t be out if you don’t know how to drive in the snow,” Cratchett growled.

She wasn’t sure how she’d learn to drive in the snow if she didn’t get out in it but she decided this wasn’t the time for that observation.

He leaned over the bush like a detective examining a corpse. “This thing will never come back. You’ve damaged it beyond repair.”

“I’ll buy you a new one this spring,” Sienna promised.

“You certainly will,” he snapped. “If you don’t, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer. You’re becoming a real nuisance.”

“So are you,” she muttered as she got back into her car.

“He’s mad,” Leo observed.

There was an understatement. “It’s okay,” she said as much to herself as her son. She put the car in gear, held her breath and inched toward their driveway. The car swayed as they turned in. Ooh.

“I want to get out,” Leo said.

“Stay put. We’re fine.” She bit her lip as she braked—oh, so gently—and the car fishtailed to a stop right before she hit the garage door.

She let out her breath. There. Something to be thankful for.

She could see Cratchett standing on his front walk, glaring at her. “You shouldn’t be driving,” he called.

Yeah, well, neither should he. She’d seen him behind the wheel and he was scary even when there wasn’t snow. Honestly, what had she ever done to deserve inheriting him?

“Just lucky, I guess,” teased her cousin Rita Reyes later as Sienna recounted her day’s adventures to her family over their evening Thanksgiving feast.

There were plenty of people present to enjoy it—Rita, her husband, Tito, and their toddler, Linda, were present, along with Sienna’s tía, Mami Luci, and Tito’s sister and brother-in-law and their two small children. It was Sienna’s first holiday celebration in her new house and she loved being able to fill it with company.

Especially on Thanksgiving, which was her favorite holiday. The food—turkey and pork, tamales, Mami’s arroz con gandules, coquito and flan for dessert; the music—salsa, merengue and bachata; and, of course, time with family. With her parents and two brothers still in LA, it was a comfort to be able to have her aunt and cousin living in the same town. It was also nice to have them right here to complain to.

No, wait. No complaining on Thanksgiving. She was simply venting. Justifiably venting. “I mean, it’s not like I meant to run over Mr. Cratchett’s juniper bush.”

“You didn’t exactly get practice driving in snow down in LA,” Rita said consolingly. “That man.” She shook her head in disgust as she helped herself to more fruit salad. “Neighbors should come with a warning label.”

“This one should have,” Sienna said. “He shouldn’t be allowed to have neighbors. He should be a hermit. Actually, he’s already close to one. He hardly ever comes out of that big, overgrown house of his except to yell at me.” Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration.

Or not.

“Mr. Cratchett’s mean to me, too, Mommy,” put in Leo.

Tito shook his head. “Threatening to call the cops over a baseball through the window.”

“I didn’t do that,” Leo declared hotly. “It was Tommy Haskel. Tommy said it was me.”

Poor Leo had taken the fall and Sienna had bought Mr. Cratchett a new window.

“Culo,” muttered Tito. “I should have come over and taken a baseball to the old dude’s head.”

Tito’s sister pointed her fork at him. “Then he really would have called the cops.”

“He’s been there, done that,” Sienna said. “Remember?”

“Yes, making such a stink when we had your housewarming party,” Rita said in disgust. “Too loud, my ass. It was barely nine.”

“Maybe that’s what got us started on the wrong foot,” Sienna mused. That had been back in the summer. Even after all those months it would appear she and her crusty neighbor still hadn’t found the right foot.

Tito shook his head. “No. The dude’s a cabrón.”

“Oh, well. Let’s not think about him anymore,” Sienna said. There were plenty of nice people in town to make up for her unneighborly neighbor. She liked Rita’s boss, Charley Masters, who owned Zelda’s restaurant, and Bailey Black, who owned a tea shop, was quickly becoming a good friend. Pat York, her boss at Mountain Escape Books, was great, and Pat’s friends had all taken her under their wings.

“Good idea,” agreed Rita. “Pass the tamales.”

Venting finished, Sienna went back to concentrating on counting her blessings. So she didn’t have husband. Who wanted a creep who walked away when the going got tough, anyway? She had her family, new friends, a wonderful job and a pretty house that she’d been able to purchase from the previous owner on a private contract with a very minimal down payment. It wasn’t as big as Cratchett’s corner-lot mansion—nobody’s was—but it had three bedrooms, two baths and a kitchen with lots of cupboard space, and it was all hers. Or it would be in thirty years. And she had the sweetest son a woman could ask for. Her life was good, so there’d be no more complaining, er, venting.

* * *

Olivia Claussen’s feet hurt. So did her back. For that matter, so did her head. Serving Thanksgiving dinner to all her guests at the Icicle Creek Lodge was an exhausting undertaking, even with help.

Thank God she’d had help. Although one particular “helper,” her new daughter-in-law, had been about as useful as a roadblock.

“I was a waitress at the Full Table Buffet,” Meadow had bragged when Olivia had asked if she’d be able to give her a hand with the holiday dinner service. “No problemo.”

She’d showed off her experience by setting the tables wrong, spilling gravy in a customer’s lap and then swearing at him when he got upset with her. She’d capped the day off by leaving halfway through serving the main course.

“Meadow doesn’t feel good,” Olivia’s son Brandon had explained.

Meadow didn’t feel good? Olivia hadn’t felt so good herself. She’d been nursing a headache for days. Perhaps it had something to do with the arrival of her new daughter-in-law? But running an inn was not much different from show business. The show must go on.

And so it had, but Olivia was still feeling more than a little crabby about the performance of one particular player. “Whatever did he see in her?” she complained to her husband, James, as he rubbed her tired feet. Besides the obvious, of course. The girl was pretty—in a brassy, exotic way. Brandon had always dated good-looking women.

James wisely didn’t answer.

Olivia had been longing to see her baby boy married for years, but she hadn’t expected him to sneak off to Vegas to do it. She certainly hadn’t expected him to commit so quickly, before anyone really had a chance to get to know this woman. Before he really even had a chance to get to know her!

Brandon had met Meadow when he was skiing. She’d been hanging out at the ski lodge at Crystal Mountain after her first ski lesson and there was poor, unsuspecting Brandon. They’d wound up having dinner together and then spent the night partying, which led to private ski lessons followed by private parties for two. And then it was “Oops, I’m pregnant.” And that was followed by “Surprise, we’re married!” This sudden turn of events had taken place quite clandestinely. He’d known this girl only a few months. Months! And had never said anything about her. Now suddenly they were married. And, well, here they were.

Not that Olivia wasn’t happy to have her wandering boy home again, ready to help run the family business. It was just that the woman he’d brought with him was taking some getting used to. Actually, a lot of getting used to.

The couple had started married life in Seattle, and Brandon had settled down and gotten a job working for a large company that was slowly taking over the city. The benefits were great, but the hours were long and Meadow had complained about not seeing him enough. So he’d called his mom and suggested coming back to Icicle Falls. Olivia had loved the idea of her son coming home. The bride, not so much. But the lodge would be passed on to him and Eric eventually anyway, so of course, she’d gotten a little suite ready for them, one similar to what her older son, Eric, and his wife had, making them all one big, happy family.

With a cuckoo in the nest.

“She tricked him into marrying her, I’m sure,” Olivia said to James.

“Now, Olivia, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I can’t help but wonder.”

Her second son had always been a bit of a ladies’ man, but she’d never known Brandon to be irresponsible. The idea that he’d gotten someone pregnant—someone he barely knew and who was so clearly not his type—didn’t make sense to her at all. It was just so unlike him. In fact, the more she’d thought about it after hearing the news, the more she couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that the whole pregnancy thing had been a ploy to chain Brandon down. Olivia’s suspicion only grew when, just a few weeks after they were married, they’d told her the pregnancy had ended. It was a terrible thing to think, and yet Olivia couldn’t shake the feeling that there probably hadn’t ever been a baby—only a trashy girl looking to snag a good-looking man and some financial security.

Okay, she had to admit that Brandon did seem smitten with Meadow. So there had to be something hiding behind the revealing clothes, the lack of manners, the self-centeredness and the haze of smoke from her electronic cigarettes. Such a filthy habit, smoking, and so bad for your health.

“I’d rather smoke than be fat,” Meadow had said to Olivia when she—politely—brought up the subject. “And if I didn’t do this, I’d be eating all the time instead.”

Olivia was a little on the pudgy side. Was that a slur?

Not only did Meadow appear to disapprove of Olivia’s looks, she obviously disapproved of her decorating skills. The first thing out of her mouth when she’d seen the lodge had been “Whoa, look at these granny carpets.”

Granny carpets indeed! Those rose-patterned carpets were classic, and they’d cost Olivia a small fortune when she first put them in. Plus, they complemented the many antiques Olivia had in the lobby and the guest rooms. Well, all right. So the girl had different tastes. Obviously, she wouldn’t know an antique if she tripped over one. But did she have to be so...vocal about them?

She’d hardly raved over the small apartment that Olivia had given her and Brandon when they arrived. She’d walked into the bedroom and frowned. “Where’s the closet?”

Olivia had pointed to the antique German pine armoire and said, “This is it. It’s a schrank.”

“A what?”

“For your clothes.”

“I’m supposed to fit all my clothes in there?”

Taking in Meadow’s skimpy skirt and midriff-bearing top, Olivia had doubted that her clothes would take up much room. “I’m sure Brandon can remodel for you,” Olivia had said stiffly.

“I hope so.” Meadow had drifted over to the window and looked out. “Wow, that’s some view.”

At least she’d appreciated something.

“It’s gonna be really cool living here,” she’d said and Olivia almost warmed to her until she added, “Once we fix this place up.”

“So what do you think of Meadow?” Brandon had asked after he’d brought her home to meet Mom.

By then they were already married. It had been too late to say what she really thought. Instead, she tried a gentler approach. “Wasn’t this a little fast? I always thought we’d have a wedding.” I always thought you’d pick someone we wanted you to marry.

That was when he’d blushed and confessed that they were pregnant. They’d wanted to get married anyway, so what the hell?

What the hell indeed.

“Dear, this isn’t like you,” James said, bringing Olivia out of her unpleasant reverie. “You’re normally so kindhearted and welcoming.”

“I’ve welcomed her,” Olivia insisted. She’d given Meadow a home here at the inn with the rest of the family. That was pretty welcoming.

But you haven’t exactly taken her in with open arms.

The thought gave her conscience a sharp poke and she squirmed on the sofa. Her cat, Muffin, who’d been happily encamped on her lap, meowed in protest.

“If only she was more like Brooke,” Olivia said as if that excused her attitude. “At least Eric got it right.” Brooke was refined and well educated and appreciative. She loved the lodge, granny carpets and all. Not only did she truly want to be helpful, she actually was. She and Olivia were on the same wavelength.

James couldn’t help smiling at the mention of his daughter. It had been Brooke who was responsible for James and Olivia meeting. “No one’s like Brooke,” he said proudly.

“She is one of a kind, just like her daddy.”

James, who had spent most of his life playing Santa Claus, was as close to the real deal as a man could come. With his snowy white hair and beard, husky build and caring smile, he embodied the very spirit of Christmas.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said and gave her poor, tired foot a pat. “But, getting back to the subject of Meadow, I’m sure she has many redeeming qualities. All you have to do is look for them.”

“With a magnifying glass.”

“Olivia,” he gently chided.

“You’re right. I’m just having such a hard time warming to the girl.”

“I know. But this is the woman Brandon has chosen.”

Olivia sighed. “Yes, and you’re right. I need to make more of an effort for his sake.”

And she would. Tomorrow was another day.

Another busy day. They’d be decorating the lodge for the holidays. Meadow had been excited over the prospect and assured Olivia she loved to decorate. Hopefully, she’d be better at that than she was at helping serve food. And maybe this time she wouldn’t ditch them halfway through the job.

The next morning Eric was knocking on the door of Olivia’s little apartment in the lodge. “We ready to do this?” he asked James.

“Yep. Let’s start hauling up the holidays.”

And there was plenty to haul up from the huge basement storeroom where Olivia kept the holiday decorations—ornaments to go on the eight-foot noble fir they’d purchased for one corner of the lobby, as well as ones for the tree in the dining room, snow globes and red ribbons for the fireplace mantel and, of course, the antique sleigh that would sit right in the center of the lobby. It was a favorite with their guests and people were constantly taking pictures of it. There were stuffed teddy bears and antique dolls to ride in the sleigh, mistletoe to hang in the hallways and silk poinsettias to be placed on the reception desk. Decorating the inn was an all-hands-on-deck day.

“Where’s your brother?” Olivia asked as he set down the box of toys for the sleigh.

“He’s coming. Meadow’s just now getting up. They closed down The Man Cave last night and she’s pooped.”

So, she’d recovered from her earlier illness. How convenient. “Maybe she’s too tired to help,” Olivia said hopefully. Playing pool all night could be exhausting.

No such luck. Fifteen minutes later Olivia and Brooke were sorting through the first bin of decorations when Meadow dragged herself into the lobby accompanied by Brandon. She was wearing tight ripped jeans, complemented with a sheer blouse hanging loose over a low-cut red camisole that perfectly matched the patch of hair she’d dyed red. The rest was a color of blond that made Olivia think of light bulbs. Olivia could see the butterfly tattoo Meadow had over her right breast fluttering over the top of the camisole. Her holiday look was completed with a ring through her nose and one through her eyebrow. She made a shocking contrast to Brooke, with her soft brown hair and tasteful clothes. Now almost eight months pregnant, Brooke was wearing a long gray sweater accented with a blue silk scarf over her black maternity leggings and gray ankle boots. Meadow even looked like a total mismatch with Brandon, who was in jeans and a casual button-down black plaid shirt.

“I feel like shit,” she confessed. “I think those fish tacos were off.” She shook her head. “Now I know what they mean when they say ‘toss your tacos.’”

The queen of refinement this girl was not. To think Brandon could have had sweet little Bailey Black if only he’d gotten with the program. Bailey had carried a torch for him for years. Too late now. She was happily married. And Brandon was...trapped. So were the rest of them.

You’re going to have to make the best of it, Olivia reminded herself. Her son loved his new wife. He’d obviously seen something in her. She probably would, too. If she looked harder.

James and Eric arrived in the lobby, bearing more decorations. “You’re just in time,” Eric told his brother. “You can help me haul in the sleigh.”

Brandon nodded and followed the men back out.

Olivia pasted a smile on her face. “Well, girls, let’s get started.”

“All right. This is going to be fun,” Meadow said eagerly and opened a bin.

Eager and excited to help—that was commendable. And surely this was bound to go better than Thanksgiving dinner.

Meadow pulled out a pink ribbon ball holding a sprig of silk mistletoe and made a face. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s mistletoe,” Olivia explained.

“Mistletoe.” Meadow said it as if it were a foreign language.

“You’ve heard of mistletoe, right?” Brooke prompted and Meadow shook her head.

Both Olivia and Brooke stared at her in amazement.

“So, what is it?”

“You hang it up and then when you catch someone under it, you kiss him,” Brooke explained.

Meadow shook her head. “Why do you need a plant for that? If you want to kiss a guy, just kiss him!”

Good Lord. The child was a complete philistine.

Brooke smiled. “It’s a fun little tradition people enjoy.”

“Whatever,” Meadow said, unimpressed.

She was impressed with the sleigh, though. “Wow, that’s epic.” The minute the men had set it down, she climbed into it and tossed Brandon her cell phone. “Take my picture, babe,” she commanded and struck a rapper-girl pose, complete with the weird finger thing and the pout.

An older couple was walking through the lobby, and the husband stopped to enjoy the moment. “Now, there’s my kind of Christmas present,” he joked.

His wife, not seeing the humor, grabbed his arm and got him moving again. “Tacky,” she hissed.

Meadow flipped her off and Olivia’s cheeks heated. This girl was like a puzzle piece that had wound up in the wrong box. However were they going to get her to fit in?

Dear Santa, please bring me an extra dose of patience. I’m going to need it.

* * *

Sienna was still smiling when she went into work on Friday, remembering her fun evening of feasting, laughter and dancing. While the day had gotten off to a bad start, happily, it had ended on a positive note. And now she got to go to a job she loved. She had so much fun at Mountain Escape Books that her time there never felt like work, even when things were at their busiest.

The store was especially busy this day. In addition to shoppers enjoying Black Friday bargains, Muriel Sterling was there, signing copies of her newest book, A Guide to Happy Holidays.

Sienna took advantage of her employee discount and bought one. “I hope I can write a book someday,” she confessed to Muriel. I want to be just like you when I grow up. Gush, gush.

“We all have a story to tell,” Muriel said.

“I don’t know what mine would be.”

“You have lots of time to figure it out,” Muriel assured her. “You’re still young.”

“I keep telling Muriel to write a book about Icicle Falls,” said Pat, who was stacking more books on the table where Muriel was seated. “Maybe you’ll be the one to do that, Sienna.”

“Yeah,” put in Dot Morrison, one of Muriel’s friends who’d come in to purchase a book and offer moral support. “Or...why don’t you write a juicy novel with lots of sex? And a murder. You can set it right here in Icicle Falls.”

“If you need characters for a book, there’s your girl,” Pat teased, making Dot frown.

Known for her crazy sweatshirts, Dot was definitely a character. Today’s offering said Apologies to Anyone I Haven’t Offended. Please Be Patient. I’ll Get to You Shortly.

“Murder in Icicle Falls?” Muriel gave a mock shudder.

Dot shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t work. Who would you murder?”

“Your neighbor Mr. Cratchett?” Pat suggested to Sienna.

“Well...” Sienna regretted having told Pat about her problem neighbor. Complaining to family was one thing. Complaining to other people was plain old bad-mouthing. Although if anyone deserved to be bad-mouthed, it was Cratchett.

Dot gave a snort. “That old grump. Don’t mind him. He’s lived here forever. Comes into my restaurant every once in a while. Never leaves my gals a tip. You could bump him off in a book. Put him in my place and have someone slip poison in his coffee. The way he gripes about it, you’d think it was poisoned.”

“There’s probably more to Mr. Cratchett than what you’re seeing,” Muriel said.

“As in, you can’t judge a book by its cover,” said Pat.

“Not even in a bookstore,” Muriel added with a smile.

Sienna had seen enough of Mr. Cratchett and she didn’t want to read any further.

“We shouldn’t be too hard on the poor man. Maybe he’s got a good reason to be so grouchy. He’s a widower, after all,” Muriel said in Cratchett’s defense.

This produced another snort from Dot. “I’ve been a widow for years. You don’t see me whining about it.” She shook her head. “Men. They’re the weaker sex.”

At that moment a member of the weaker sex came into the store, needing help finding the latest Suzanne Selfors book for his daughter, and that broke up the confab as Sienna went to help him and Pat moved to ring up a sale.

Business remained brisk for the next two hours, with townspeople popping in to get signed copies of Muriel’s book. Her daughters Samantha and Cecily both came by, bringing treats from their sister Bailey’s tearoom. And Vance Fish, one of the town’s older single men, stopped in to say hi to Muriel. He owned a bookstore in Seattle but he always came by Pat’s when she had a special event going on.

“We indie booksellers have to stick together,” he said.

While he was there, two women came in looking for the latest Vanessa Valentine book. Sienna had heard a rumor that Vance Fish himself was really Vanessa Valentine. She’d worked up her nerve to ask him once. He’d laughed and replied, “Do I look like a Vanessa Valentine to you?” So much for that rumor.

Muriel’s book signing ended, but before she left the store, she handed out invitations to her ladies’ Christmas tea the next Sunday afternoon.

“It’s a tradition,” Pat told Sienna. “She does this every year for her girlfriends and daughters, so make sure you line up your cousin to watch Leo, because you won’t want to miss seeing Muriel’s place all fixed up for the holidays.”

She wouldn’t want to miss seeing Muriel’s place, period.

The rest of the day sped by and before Sienna knew it, it was quitting time. She picked up her car from Swede’s Garage, where they’d put on those snow tires she’d been postponing purchasing. Then she fetched Leo from Rita’s house, which was his home away from home when Sienna was at the bookstore. It was a good arrangement. Rita worked nights at Zelda’s, so she was home during the day and was happy to have Leo around, as he kept little Linda entertained. Plus, the price was right: free—always a good thing for a single mom who had stretched her budget to buy her house. Child support from the creep only went so far.

“How was your day?” Sienna asked, hugging her son.

“I helped Tía Rita make cookies,” he told her.

“You did?”

He nodded eagerly.

“He’s very good at stirring,” Rita confirmed.

“That’s nice to hear. You’re a good helper,” Sienna said and mussed his thick, dark hair. “Come on, handsome, let’s go home and make some hamburgers.”

“Hamburgers, yes!” Leo cheered and raced for the door.

“Why don’t you let Tito watch him tonight and you come to Zelda’s for a while?” Rita suggested. “There’s a new band playing in the bar.”

“I’m too tired,” Sienna said. “We had a busy day at the bookstore.”

“Tired,” Rita echoed in disgust. “You’re too young to be tired. You’re only thirty-five.”

“Well, tonight I feel like I’m eighty-five. And my feet hurt.”

Rita frowned. “You gotta get out, chica. You need a life. You need a man.”

“I have a life with Leo, a perfectly good life.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “All men aren’t like your ex, you know. Look at Tito.”

“Clone him and then we’ll talk,” Sienna said and followed Leo out to the car. The weather was still cold and the roads slushy from the earlier snowstorm. More snow was predicted for late that night and she was ready to go home and get tucked in before everything got icy.

It was an exciting Friday night, hamburgers followed by Leo’s favorite movie, Cars. They’d watched that movie so many times she could say every line of dialogue right along with Lightning McQueen and Strip Weathers. Yes, this was what her life boiled down to—work and Pixar movies.

And hamburgers and time with her sweet son, who still thought it was cool to snuggle on the couch with Mom and watch an animated movie. So there wasn’t a man in her life. She could live with that.

A good thing, since she was probably going to have to. Lonely after her divorce, Sienna had looked for a good man, but in the end she hadn’t found anyone worth keeping. There’d been Manny, who’d proved to be more of a child than Leo, wanting nothing more out of life than to go dancing and work on his car. He’d yelled at her son when Leo was assisting him in changing the oil and accidentally dropped the oil pan, calling him estúpido. That had been the end of Manny. Gregory had liked Leo just fine...as long as he didn’t have to hang out with him. Gregory hadn’t lasted long, either. Those had been the best of the bunch. Sadly, there weren’t a lot of men out there who wanted to take on a woman with a kid, especially a woman with a kid who had some challenges.

And Leo did have challenges. While most kids his age were reading small chapter books, he was struggling with simple words like cat and bat. He still didn’t know all his colors. Everything was either red, blue or yellow. And math completely overwhelmed him. Trying to master new information often drove him to tears and tantrums. So when the men Sienna dated got a look at life with Leo—when they realized every day wasn’t going to be smooth sailing—they bolted.

But what had she expected? Her own husband hadn’t been able to cope. “I can’t deal with this anymore,” he’d said only six months after Leo had finally been tested and diagnosed with a learning disability. She’d tried to convince Carlos that, together, they could deal with anything, but her pep talk hadn’t done any good. “I’m sorry, Sienna. I want a divorce.”

Sienna hadn’t known which had been worse, his initial harshness and impatience with Leo or the ensuing coldness to the little boy, who only wanted his love.

Well, new town, new start. She and Leo would manage fine on their own, and even though she missed her parents and brothers, she knew she’d done the right thing coming here. She was happy with her new job and her new friends. And, most important, Leo was happy with his new teacher. Really, the only fly on the frosting was her neighbor.

After Leo went to bed, she settled in with Muriel Sterling’s new book. There’s something about the holidays, Muriel wrote.

The wonderful message of redemption, the time with friends, the treats, the sights and sounds and smells.

But perhaps you’re finding it difficult to experience the joy of the holiday season. I hope my suggestions will help you find your way to a wonderful Christmas that’s not only merry but also meaningful. My wish for you is that no matter who is in your life, no matter what is going on, you’ll be able to make the days merry and bright—for yourself and others, too!

A very noble sentiment, Sienna thought. And she intended to do just that. No matter how many unpleasant encounters she had with old, cranky Cratchett, she was going to find a way to have a merry Christmas.

Chapter Two

Giving is one of the joys of the season. Be enthusiastic whether you’re on the giving or the receiving end of the gift.

—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

Muriel Sterling-Wittman often met her old friend Arnie Amundsen for breakfast at Pancake Haus. If Olivia and James Claussen weren’t busy, they’d usually join them. Dot Morrison, the owner of the restaurant, frequently sat in on the conversation for a while, too.

A flood of tourists was in town for the long holiday weekend and the snow, and the restaurant was packed this Saturday morning with people enjoying German waffles, pancakes and eggs. The smell of coffee and sugary treats greeted Muriel as she stepped inside. Voices and laughter came at her from all sides, telling her this was, indeed, the place to be.

“He’s back there,” Dot said with a nod toward a back booth as she hurried past Muriel to pour coffee for a table of young women.

Yes, Muriel could see him. All by himself, he stood out in the mob of families and couples.

She’d known Arnie most of her life and he hadn’t changed much since high school. He was still as thin as he’d been back then and still wearing the same style of glasses. About the only change was a few more wrinkles and a heavy salting of gray in what was left of his once-sandy-colored hair.

Of course, Muriel’s hair was now heavily salted as well, but she wasn’t letting anyone know that. Thank heaven for her stylist at Sleeping Lady Salon.

He’d been watching for her and waved discreetly when they made eye contact. Her late husband would have stood and called her over, but that had been Waldo, larger-than-life. Arnie was...well, Arnie. Quiet, soft-spoken, unremarkable. But solid, steady and sweet.

And a terrible dresser. She took in the Christmas-red sweater he was wearing over his shirt and the red bow tie. She’d bought him neckties for Christmas the last few years as a subtle hint and he’d worn them to please her, but in the end, he always reverted to his bow tie addiction. The red sweater didn’t do much for him, either. He’d look so much better in blue. It would show off his blue eyes. Maybe she’d give him a blue sweater for Christmas this year.

He greeted her with a smile as she slid into the booth, seating herself opposite him, and informed her that he’d taken the liberty of ordering her usual cheese-and-mushroom omelet.

“No James and Olivia today, I figured,” he said as he took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re right. She’s busy at the lodge. How was your Thanksgiving?”

“All right,” he said with a shrug. “At my sister’s again this year.”

Sometimes Muriel felt downright guilty about Arnie’s lackluster life. He’d loved her since they were teenagers. Sadly, she just hadn’t felt the same about him. Other men had come along to steal her heart. Still, Arnie had remained her steadfast friend, seeing her through the loss of two husbands. Arnie was a dear.

“How was the gathering of the Sterling clan?” he asked.

“Chaotic, noisy as always.”

“In other words, a good time was had by all.”

“Yes, that sums it up,” she said with a smile.

Dot appeared with her coffee carafe. “I hope you two aren’t in a hurry today,” she said as she filled Muriel’s mug. “As you can see, we’re slammed.”

“That’s okay, we’re not in a hurry,” Muriel assured her. “Unless... Arnie?”

“I can stay as long as you want me to,” he said.

What a sweetie. It was a shame to see such a nice man single.

“Good,” Dot said and hurried off.

They filled in the time with small talk as they waited for their orders. Arnie wanted to know how Muriel’s book signing had gone. “Sorry I missed it,” he added.

“You’ve attended more than your share of signings,” she said.

“Yeah, but I like to support you.”

“You’re the most supportive friend I have,” she told him, and it made him beam with pleasure.

Talk turned to plans for the holidays. “I’ve booked a cruise,” he announced.

“Really? Where are you going?”

“To Germany.”

“Germany, how lovely.”

She’d always dreamed of going there. That had yet to happen. With her first husband, Stephen, she’d been busy raising a family, keeping things together on the home front while he ran the family chocolate business. She and her second husband had talked about taking a trip but then Waldo had been diagnosed with Lewy body dementia, and that had been that. She couldn’t help feeling a little wistful. She would’ve loved to have seen some of those German towns after which Icicle Falls had been modeled.

“It’s a river cruise and we’ll be stopping at all the famous Christmas markets—Nuremberg, Bamberg, Heidelberg.”

Heidelberg. She’d always wanted to see the castle ruins.

He pulled out the brochure with its glossy pictures of outdoor markets, smiling couples leaning on the railing of the river barge, lit-up cities. It all looked so romantic.

“Joe, from the Yakima branch of Cascade Mutual, invited me. He had a group from the bank going and a couple of them had to cancel at the last minute. I was able to book their staterooms.”

“How fun! Good for you,” Muriel said, impressed. Arnie was rarely spontaneous and always careful with his money. It was nice to see him taking a step toward living large.

“Actually, I’d like you to go with me. You’d be back in time for Christmas with the family,” he hurried to add.

“With you?” she repeated. Like a couple? But they weren’t a couple. They were simply friends. Good friends, dear friends. But that was all. She’d never thought of Arnie as anything else. Besides, at this point in her life, after being widowed twice, she had no intention of starting anything with anyone. “Oh, Arnie, I couldn’t.”

His smile flipped upside down.

“It’s a lot of money,” she explained, trying to soften the blow of her refusal.

“Muriel, you don’t think I’d ask you and then expect you to pay,” he said, shocked.

She couldn’t let him spend that kind of money on her even though she knew he had it to spend. “It’s sweet of you, but...I can’t.” She’d feel like she was using him. He’d get his hopes up. It would get awkward.

Dot had returned with more coffee to tide them over as they waited for their food. “Can’t what?” she asked, having caught the tail end of Muriel’s rejection. “Arnie, you look like you’ve got indigestion and your food hasn’t even come yet. What’s going on here, you two?”

“Arnie’s taking a river cruise in Germany,” Muriel explained.

“Go, Arnie,” Dot said encouragingly.

“I wanted Muriel to come with me,” he said, and Muriel felt the weight of his disappointment settling over her. Their waitress arrived with their breakfasts and he moved his plate away.

Oh, dear. Muriel felt awful about upsetting him. “Arnie, I’m sorry.”

“I know how much you always wanted to see Germany,” he said, his expression wistful.

“I do.” But not with you. She bit her lip.

“Seriously, you don’t want to go?” Dot asked, and she and Arnie exchanged glances. Muriel, the ingrate.

“I have too much going on. The new book and everything,” Muriel added feebly. It was a flimsy excuse and they all knew it.

“I guess I should have checked with you before I bought the tickets, but I needed to act fast,” Arnie said. Then he added, “I was sure you’d be all over something like this.”

“You should still go,” Muriel said, not wanting to be responsible for spoiling her old friend’s good time, not to mention being responsible for him losing money. At such a late date, he’d never be able to get a refund.

Maybe she should go, if only not to have his money go to waste. She’d make it clear that they were going only as friends...

“Yeah, Arnie,” put in Dot. “That’s a once-in-a-lifetime trip.” She shook her head at Muriel. “You’re crazy not to go, Muriel. I’d be all over that like white on rice.”

Now there was an idea. “Maybe you should go,” Muriel suggested. Dot was single, Arnie was single—they could become travel buddies.

Except now she’d just put Arnie on the spot. She looked to see how he was taking her suggestion.

He did blink in surprise, but before he could say anything, Dot settled herself next to Muriel and set down her carafe. “What do you say, Arnie? Would you like some company?”

“Well,” he said slowly, the gears turning as he worked to keep up with this sudden change in his plans.

Now Muriel regretted her impulsive suggestion. How could poor Arnie be honest about whether or not he wanted to bring Dot along with her sitting right there?

“How much did that extra stateroom cost? I’ll write you a check today,” Dot said.

“So you’re serious?” Arnie asked.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well,” he said, hesitating. He was probably looking for a polite way to get out of this, the same as Muriel had just tried to do with him.

“We’ll have fun,” Dot assured him. “Unlike Muriel, I can get away for a couple of weeks.

“We can do our Christmas shopping over there. Talk about ringing in the holidays. This is a great idea, Arnie!”

Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Muriel looked at the excitement in Dot’s eyes and suddenly felt the stirrings of regret. Maybe she should have said yes...

“I thought so,” he said. The look he gave Muriel showed how disappointed he was that she hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see Germany,” said Dot.

“Same here,” Arnie said.

“Well, then, let’s do it. You only live once. Anyway, I bet you can’t get your money back at this point, so you may as well go and let me pick up the tab for the other half.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good point.”

“So, what do you say? Shall we see how the other half lives?”

Her last argument about saving some money seemed to have tipped the scale and he gave a decided nod. “Why not?”

Arnie’s smile returned and suddenly he was digging into his pancakes, and he and Dot were deep in discussion about their upcoming adventure. How much currency to convert into euros, flight departures, how early they needed to get to the airport. Did either of them have a window seat on the plane?

“There’s a whole group of people going,” Arnie told Dot, “so we’ll be partying our way across Germany.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

The discussion continued. What should they pack? What was the weather doing over in Germany? They’d have to try a real German schnitzel so they could see how the schnitzel served at Schwangau measured up. In all their excitement, neither urged Muriel to change her mind and come along.

Arnie chuckled as Dot demonstrated what little German she knew, holding up two fingers and saying, “Zwei bier, bitte.” Oh, yes, Dot would be the life of the party. In fact, it looked like the party was already starting right here in Pancake Haus.

Muriel smiled and nodded as the two continued their conversation. Of course, she was happy for them. Arnie would have a companion on his trip and Dot would enjoy a well-deserved vacation. She hadn’t taken one in years. They’d both have a lovely time together and Muriel could be relieved that she hadn’t spoiled his vacation by turning him down. Yes, she’d been positively inspired to suggest Dot go in her place.

Arnie certainly hadn’t mourned being turned down for long. Muriel’s omelet suddenly tasted a little off. She set down her fork.

“Something wrong with your breakfast?” Dot asked, pointing to the half-consumed meal.

“No, I guess I’m not very hungry,” Muriel said. She looked at her watch. “You know, I should get going. My new Christmas tree is due to arrive this morning.”

“Oh, okay,” Arnie said. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you to go, Muriel.”

“Yeah. This is exactly the kind of trip you’d love,” Dot said.

It was true—this was her dream vacation, and she’d been so quick to set boundaries with Arnie she hadn’t taken much time to think of the experience she’d be missing. Maybe she should reconsider and come along.

“But oh, well. We’ll be thinking of you,” Dot said.

Would they? Muriel wanted to say, “Wait, I’ve changed my mind. I’m coming!” Now it seemed too late, as if she’d be crashing the party.

Maybe Dot had more than a friendly interest in Arnie and wanted him all to herself. She certainly managed to find time to join them whenever Muriel and Arnie came in for breakfast. Now here she was, with the restaurant packed and her waitresses running in circles, sitting around happily making plans for an international getaway with him.

Well, if that was the case, good for Dot. She’d worked hard, running her business and raising her daughter single-handedly. Arnie had been thrifty all his life and spent very little money on himself. It was time they both got out and had some fun. Good for them.

She said her goodbyes and made her way home to her little cottage next to Ed and Pat York’s vineyard feeling a little less cheerful than she had an hour ago.

She’d always wanted to see the vineyards in Germany.

You had your chance. Reminding herself didn’t exactly restore her cheery mood.

But then she pulled up in front of the cottage and was cheered by the sight of a big box sitting on her front porch. Wonderful! Her new artificial tree had arrived. Arnie and Dot were off to Germany but she would enjoy life here in Icicle Falls as the holidays approached. And she had a new tree. A woman could always find something to be happy about, she told herself as she hauled it into the house.

When she’d seen the tree on an online site, she’d hardly been able to believe her eyes. It was beautiful, with lots of full branches. And so realistic looking. A perfect replacement for her old, tired tree, which she’d taken to the Kindness Cupboard. On sale and with free shipping, too. Of course she’d purchased it immediately. It would be the perfect centerpiece at her annual holiday tea party.

Filled with anticipation, she opened the box and lifted out...a sad, bald poor excuse for a tree. What on earth? She looked inside the box, hoping to find, what? A note that said “Ha, ha. Your real tree is coming”?

“I’ve been had,” she muttered. She stood the tree up against the living room wall, feeling cranky. This was not going to work. No way could she display this pitiful excuse for a tree. It was an insult to Christmas, not to mention an insult to trees.

It served her right. She should have purchased her new tree from Ivy Bohn over at Christmas Haus. Well, it wasn’t too late. She dialed Ivy’s shop.

Ivy answered, sounding almost breathless. Hardly surprising considering how busy the shop got this time of year.

“Ivy, I won’t keep you long,” Muriel promised. “But I’m wondering if you have any artificial trees left.”

“Gee, I’m sorry, Muriel. Our last one just walked out the door.”

“Already?”

“I know. Go figure.”

Muriel looked at her ugly tree and frowned. “Will you be getting more in?”

“I hope so, but I’m not sure. We’ve been having some problems with our supplier.”

Muriel had experienced a problem with her supplier, too.

“I’m sorry. If you’d told me you wanted a tree, I’d have set one aside for you. But you’re usually all set for Christmas so far ahead of time—I’m surprised to hear you don’t already have one.”

Ivy was right. This was definitely unlike her. Christmas was hands down her favorite holiday. She’d pull out all her favorite cookie recipes and bake up a storm, putting together gift boxes of cookies for all the Sweet Dreams employees, always making sure to bake Arnie’s favorite fruitcake cookies for him. She loved to entertain and always threw herself into decorating. In her mind, setting a festive backdrop for gatherings was a must. She was sure that beautiful surroundings sent a subliminal message that life was beautiful and being together was worth rejoicing in.

“That’s okay,” she told Ivy. “I’ll work something out.”

“You can always get a live tree.”

Yes, she could but, much as she loved that wonderful fragrance, she preferred an artificial tree that she could put up right after Thanksgiving and leave up until after New Year’s Day. Besides, getting a live tree home and set up wasn’t a job she liked to tackle alone, and she hated to bother the kids.

She thanked Ivy and ended the call and returned her attention to her ugly tree. “Someone didn’t spend much time or love on you,” she informed it. Poor Ugly Tree.

What to do now? She absently ran a finger along one of its branches. Maybe, with enough ornaments... She had three boxes of silver balls that she’d purchased on sale the year before and some silver garlands. And she could pull out those pinecone-shaped lights, buy a few red cardinals at Christmas Haus. Maybe she could fix up her ugly little tree and make it into something pretty. Maybe it was salvageable. It was worth a try.

Always make the most of what you have, even if it isn’t much. She’d said that in one of her books. It was time to take her own advice.

“We have a week to get you gorgeous,” she told her ugly tree. “Let’s see what we can do.”

She could almost hear the poor thing saying, “Yes, please. Don’t give up on me.”

She’d barely determined her course of action when one of her grandmother’s favorite sayings came to mind. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Maybe her grandmother was wrong. Maybe you could. She certainly hoped so.

Her daughter Samantha wasn’t so sure she’d succeed. She dropped by later with Muriel’s three-year-old granddaughter, Rose. “That’s the most pitiful tree I’ve ever seen,” Samantha said.

“Did you go to the woods, Grammy?” Rose asked, cocking her head and staring at the tree.

“No, sweetie. This is a pretend tree,” Muriel explained.

The child wrinkled her nose. “It’s ugly.”

“It’s not pretending very well,” Samantha agreed. “Is that the one you found online?”

Muriel sighed and nodded. “The picture looked much better.”

“Ivy’s probably got some.”

“I called. She’s sold-out already.”

“Wow, not even December 1 and there’s a run on trees. Do you want us to cut you one when we go to the tree farm?”

Freshly cut, the tree would last. Her son-in-law would set it up for her. The whole house would smell woodsy.

Except Samantha and Blake weren’t going to put up their tree for another two weeks and Muriel wanted hers up for her party. “No, that’s okay. I think I can make this little tree look good. Anyway, it doesn’t seem right to toss the poor thing without at least giving it a chance.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’s got feelings, Mom.”

Yes, it was silly, but somehow Muriel felt like there was a principle at stake here. “I can dress it up.”

“Well, if anyone can do it, you can,” Samantha said. “If you change your mind, though, the offer still stands.”

“I won’t, but thanks.” It was game on now. Somehow, she was going to make that tree lovely.

And maybe if she stayed busy with the tree and all the other Christmas preparations she loved, she wouldn’t have time to think about Arnie and Dot having fun in Germany without her. Maybe.

Chapter Three

Look for the good in everyone and every day, and you can’t help but be happy.

—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

Come the afternoon of Muriel’s party her tree was, indeed, beautiful. The bald spots had been filled in with the ornaments she already had as well as some elegant filigreed silver bells she’d found at Christmas Haus. The red cardinals were a brilliant addition, if she did say so herself. They added a splash of vivid color, backed up by the pastel colors of the lit pinecones. The silver garlands finished it all off nicely. Poor Ugly Tree was now a thing of beauty. It just went to show you what lavishing a little love could accomplish.

She checked her makeup and adjusted her long green scarf, then got busy setting out her refreshments: red velvet cupcakes, peppermint fudge from Sweet Dreams, brie cheese baked in puff pastry, crudités, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus and her favorite holiday punch. And of course, her signature chocolate-mint tea. She started some Christmas music playing, lit her fresh balsam-scented candle and she was ready to go.

Her dear friend Pat York was the first to arrive, along with Dot. “Good Lord,” Dot said, taking in the table centerpiece of red Christmas balls nestled among greens and the array of red candles and pine boughs marching across the mantelpiece. “Martha Stewart lives. Sometimes I really don’t like you.”

Muriel was used to Dot’s sense of humor. She merely smiled and took Dot’s coat.

Her daughters came in one big group, bringing laughter and plates of food. “Everything looks wonderful, Mom,” said Cecily, her middle child.

Samantha nodded in the direction of the tree. “I should have known you’d pull it off. The tree looks great.”

More people began to arrive—Pat’s new employee, Sienna Moreno; Charley Masters, her daughters’ good friend and owner of Zelda’s restaurant; Beth Mallow; Cass Masters; Stacy Thomas; Maddy Donaldson; and of course, Muriel’s other close friend, Olivia Claussen—and Muriel’s little cottage began to hum with conversation.

“Your tree is gorgeous,” Olivia raved as the women settled in the living room with drinks and plates of goodies.

“You should have seen it when she first got it,” Samantha said and shook her head. “It was pathetic.”

“It was pretty sad,” Muriel admitted. “But I hated to simply get rid of it.”

“I would have,” Dot said. “That looks like way too much work. I’m not even bothering with a tree this year.”

“You have to put up a tree,” Olivia said, shocked.

“No, I don’t. I’m old,” Dot retorted. “Besides, I’ll be gone for a good part of December.”

“Where are you going?” asked Beth.

“I’m off to Germany,” Dot said. “Arnie Amundsen and I are doing one of those Christmas cruises.”

“You and Arnie?” Pat looked surprised.

“Yep. I’m moving in on Muriel’s man,” Dot teased.

Muriel was aware of all three of her daughters looking at her curiously. Arnie didn’t ask you? She smiled to show she was perfectly all right with this. Arnie needed a life.

“When did you and Arnie become a couple?” Olivia asked, and she, too, shot a look in Muriel’s direction.

“Since Arnie had an extra stateroom,” Dot said. “We’re just going as pals. There’s a whole group of us. It’s going to be a blast.”

“Wow,” said Beth. “I’m jealous.”

Muriel was not jealous. She forced her smile to stay in place.

“By the time I get back, there’ll be no point in bothering with a tree,” Dot continued. “I’ll just come over and enjoy Muriel’s if I need a fix. I’ll bring my own punch, though. This needs booze.”

“If you drink and drive, Tilda is bound to catch you,” Olivia told her.

“That’d make the paper,” Pat joked. “Cop Locks Up Pain-in-the-Neck Mom for the Holidays.”

“Hey, room service and no cleaning?” Dot retorted. “Sounds good to me.”

Pat shook her head and returned her attention to Muriel. “Anyway, the tree is fabulous.”

“Thank you. I’m glad I didn’t give up on poor Ugly Tree,” Muriel said. She was also glad that the conversation had moved on to a new topic.

“I guess you just proved that anything can be made pretty if you put in the effort,” Pat said.

Cass shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve had some cakes that I had to completely give up on.”

“But I bet they still tasted good,” Muriel said to her.

“True,” Cass admitted.

“I think a few little flaws can add charm,” said Stacy Thomas. “You wouldn’t believe how much fine china I sell in my shop even if it has a chip. The Royal Albert Old Country Roses pattern is always in demand.”

“Do you think it’s the same with people?” Maddy Donaldson mused. “Because when it comes to charm, my mother-in-law still has a long way to go.”

“I bet most of us have people in our lives who are a lot like Ugly Tree, maybe not so lovable sometimes,” Muriel said. “It can be hard to see anything good in them. But, really, don’t you think there’s something good in all of us?”

“No,” Dot said, and Muriel frowned at her. Honestly, sometimes Dot could be so...irritating. What had Muriel subjected poor Arnie to?

“I don’t know,” Sienna confessed. “I’m having a hard time seeing anything good in my neighbor. I think he might be the meanest man in Icicle Falls.”

“Yes, but what made him that way?” Muriel countered. “Sometimes people go through hard times and it takes the shine off their smiles.”

“He has no smile,” Sienna said.

“I guess that’s when you’ve got to walk a mile in his snow boots,” put in Bailey, and Muriel beamed approvingly at her youngest daughter.

“No, thanks,” Sienna said with a shudder.

Olivia sighed. “All this talk of seeing the good in people has really convicted me of the bad attitude I’ve had lately.”

“What are you talking about? You never have a bad attitude.” Dot scoffed. “You need bad-attitude lessons.”

Olivia shook her head. “Not where some people are concerned.”

“Oh,” Dot said slowly as realization dawned.

Olivia didn’t have to say any more. Her close friends knew exactly to whom she was referring. Poor Olivia. Sadly, a woman had no control over who her children married. All she could do was hope and pray they used good sense when they picked. Fortunately for Muriel, all three of her daughters had.

“I’m sure you’ll find something you can appreciate in your new family member. And under your tutelage, she’s bound to turn into a wonderful woman,” Muriel said in an effort to encourage her.

Olivia sighed. “If only it was as easy to fix up a person as it is a tree.”

“People often respond to how we see them,” Dot said, surprising Muriel with her insight. Dot was such a character that it was sometimes hard to remember that she had some depth to her. She was older than Muriel and she, too, had racked up a good share of life experiences. Like Muriel, she was a widow twice over.

“Good point,” Pat said. “Maybe this holiday season we should all look for people who need a little extra love and reach out to them.”

Dot rolled her eyes. “You sound like a greeting card commercial.”

“Not a bad idea, though,” said Cecily.

“Yeah,” Samantha agreed. “I can think of a certain supplier who could use some buttering up.”

“I don’t think there’s enough butter in the whole state of Washington for Mr. Cratchett,” Sienna said with a frown.

“I’m not sure we should be thinking in terms of buttering people up,” Muriel said.

“Muriel’s right,” said Pat. “I’m talking about being kind simply for the sake of being kind, seeing the best in people no matter what.”

When had all of Muriel’s friends gotten so wise? And why hadn’t she thought to suggest that? “I think it’s a lovely idea,” she said.

“Although I’m not sure how easy it will be to execute, at least for me,” Pat said. “The only person I can think of is Harvey Wood, and it’s hard to see the good in a landlord who keeps raising your rent and never fixes anything in the building. If the toilet in the employee bathroom makes it through to the New Year, I’ll be amazed.”

“Maybe if you give him some Sweet Dreams chocolates, he’ll get with the program and get you a new toilet,” said Dot.

Pat raised an eyebrow. “Do you really believe that?”

“No. Harvey’s a cheapskate.”

“I know who we should work on showing kindness to,” Cecily said to her sister.

Samantha looked at her warily. “Please don’t say who I think you’re going to say.”

“Priscilla Castro?” Bailey guessed and snickered.

“There’s an ugly tree,” Samantha muttered.

“Who’s Priscilla Castro?” asked Sienna.

“She runs the office at city hall. Every year she does her best to hold up permits for the chocolate festival,” Cecily explained. “I’m afraid she and Sam have been rivals ever since high school.”

“She was a mean girl in high school,” Samantha added. “Nothing’s really changed.”

“Except her name,” Bailey added. “Her friends used to call her Prissy. Everyone else called her Pissy. It kind of stuck.”

“Pissy definitely suits her better,” Samantha said.

“She hasn’t had much success in life,” Muriel reminded her daughters. “I’m sure that has a lot to do with it.”

“I have my hands full working on my own success. I don’t have time to help Pissy find hers,” Samantha replied, obviously not on board with the idea.

“I think she needs love,” Cecily mused. “She’s been pretty bitter since her divorce.”

“If I’d been married to Pissy, I’d have left, too,” Samantha said.

“Samantha,” Muriel scolded.

“Okay, then see what you can do,” Samantha told Cecily, dumping the problem of Priscilla in her sister’s lap.

“I just might,” Cecily replied with a grin.

“What if we all tried to see people in a whole new light?” Muriel suggested.

Dot rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I’ll miss it.”

Muriel frowned. Wasn’t it time for Dot to leave?

“We can start with looking for something beautiful in you,” Pat said, pointing a finger at her.

“I’m already a thing of beauty,” Dot said and struck a pose.

“Well,” Olivia said, “I’m up to giving it a shot. I definitely need to work on my attitude.”

“When it comes right down to it, we can all use some work on our attitudes,” Muriel told her. Herself included. Hers toward Dot was certainly shifting into ugly gear, which was pathetic considering the fact that she’d suggested Dot take her place on the cruise.

“I know mine sucks,” Sienna admitted.

“You’ve got a challenge,” Pat said to her.

“It is the season for peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” Muriel added. And irritating friends.

“So—” Pat raised her punch cup “—here’s to the ugly trees in our lives. Let’s see what we can do with them.”

“To the ugly trees,” repeated Olivia.

“To ugly trees,” the others echoed.

Conversation moved on and so did the afternoon. Toward the end of the party Muriel drew a name to win a small gift basket she’d put together, containing a candle, a box of Sweet Dreams chocolates and a copy of a Christmas novel by RaeAnne Thayne.

Sienna was thrilled when she won it. “Thank you so much,” she said to Muriel before she left. “My son is going to love helping me eat the candy and I know I’ll enjoy the book. I’m reading your new one right now. Maybe it will inspire me to have a better attitude about my neighbor,” she added.

“I hope it will,” Muriel said. “Next time you see him, think of my tree.”

The other guests began to depart soon after Sienna. “Great party,” Dot said as she and Muriel hugged each other. “Be sure to tell me what you want me to bring you from Germany.”

Muriel set aside her earlier irritation. One of Dot’s sterling qualities was her generosity. “I will. And you have fun.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll be sure to drink some glühwein for all of you,” Dot said to the group in general.

“Don’t drink too much and fall off the boat,” Samantha teased.

“Not me,” Dot said and then, with a wave, was out the door.

Olivia was the last of Muriel’s friends to leave. “I guess I should get home and try to figure out where to start with my own little ugly tree. I do hope this idea works and I can start seeing the good in her. I know I need to, for Brandon’s sake.”

Muriel hugged her. “You will.”

With the last friend gone, Muriel joined her daughters, who were in no hurry to leave and still relaxing in her living room. It was only the four of them now, and much as Muriel enjoyed entertaining her friends, moments like this were what she cherished most, when it was just her and her girls.

“Poor Olivia,” said Samantha.

“Meadow is pretty tacky,” Bailey said. “But then, Brandon never did have the best taste in women.”

“Otherwise he’d have picked you,” said Samantha.

Cecily shook her head. “They were never a match.”

Cecily, who had an uncanny gift for seeing who should be with whom, would know, thought Muriel. Although it had certainly taken her long enough to figure out who her own ideal man was.

“Speaking of matches,” said Samantha, “what’s with Dot and Arnie going to Germany? Why didn’t he ask you, Mom?”

Muriel could feel her cheeks warming. She picked up her cup and took a sip of tea. “He did. I turned him down.”

“You did?” Samantha looked at her as if she were crazy. Maybe she was.

“Why, Mom? You guys would have had a great time,” Bailey said.

“It didn’t seem right,” Muriel explained. “I didn’t want to raise false hopes.”

“He’s had false hopes for years,” Samantha pointed out. “So what’s the difference if he’s having them here or in Germany?”

“The difference is that I’d have been taking advantage of him.”

“Mom, taking advantage of someone is doing things with an ulterior motive, letting them always do things for you without getting anything in return,” Samantha argued. “You and Arnie don’t have that kind of relationship. You’re always making him cookies or feeding him dinner.”

“Poor Arnie,” Bailey said. “I bet he feels really bad.”

Muriel had seen how bad he felt. “Believe me, he got over my rejection in record time. He’s perfectly happy going with Dot.” In fact, the two of them were downright ecstatic. Muriel was suddenly aware of Cecily studying her. She smiled as if nothing at all were bothering her—because, really, nothing was—and finished her tea.

“I’m wondering if perhaps Arnie is your ugly tree, Mom. Maybe you’ve never really seen him,” Cecily said.

“I see the good in Arnie,” Muriel insisted. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“You could be more,” Cecily suggested.

More, after all those years? “Well, honestly, a woman can’t manufacture attraction. You of all people should know that.”

Cecily shrugged.

“I don’t know why all three of you couldn’t have gone,” Samantha put in.

They could have, probably. If Dot was paying her own way anyway, there was no reason Muriel couldn’t have just bought an extra ticket and truly made this a trip among friends. Really, though, it was better this way. Arnie needed to expand his horizons, do more things with other people. “I think he and Dot will have fun.”

“Maybe something will happen between them,” said Bailey.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Muriel was quick to say. “Arnie and Dot are two very different people.” Arnie was quiet and refined; Dot was outrageous and often uncouth.

“Opposites attract,” pointed out Samantha.

“Not those two opposites,” Muriel said firmly. Samantha and Cecily exchanged smiles and that annoyed her. “I don’t know what you two are smirking about,” she said irritably, and all three of her daughters grinned.

“Mom, I’m beginning to suspect you don’t want to share your special friend,” Samantha teased. “I wonder why.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Muriel snapped. “I was the one who suggested they go together. There’s nothing between Arnie and me. We’re good friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.” She wasn’t attracted to Arnie. Dot could have him!

“Okay, whatever,” Samantha said. “But I think you should have gone to Germany.”

Yes, she probably should have. Was Arnie interested in Dot?

* * *

Sienna normally worked Mondays, but it was parent-teacher conference week and her conference was scheduled for early Monday afternoon, so Pat had given her the afternoon off. She’d promised Leo that after her meeting with Mrs. Brown he could help her put up Christmas lights. He’d also begged to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas and she’d agreed, hoping the anticipation of a fun-filled afternoon would lift his spirits. His poor excuse for a father hadn’t bothered to call on Thanksgiving and it had left Leo feeling down.

He wasn’t exactly happy that she had a conference with his teacher, either. And once she sat down with Mrs. Brown, she knew why.

“Leo is a sweet boy,” Mrs. Brown began. “He always wants to help. He loves to help me collect and pass out papers, but...”

Oh, no. Here came the but.

“...we need to work on his concentration. He’d much prefer to clown around and put pencils up his nose or talk to his neighbor than work on his addition and subtraction.”

Addition and subtraction. Other kids Leo’s age were on to multiplication and division and Leo was putting pencils up his nose. This behavior wasn’t anything new but it was still disheartening. Sienna heaved a sigh.

“This is not unusual,” Mrs. Brown said gently. “Children with special needs often prefer to ignore dealing with unpleasant tasks. As do most of us,” she added with a smile.

“I know. And I have talked to him in the past. I’ll speak with him again.”

“He is making some progress,” Mrs. Brown assured her. “If you could work with him a little more at home, that might help.”

“I’m doing all I can, Mrs. Brown, believe me.”

The woman gave her a sympathetic nod. “I know. It’s hard. Don’t give up. And remember, he needs concrete examples and step-by-step direction. I’m sure you have other aspects of his life where you have to do this.”

As a matter of fact, she did. Even simple tasks like taking a bath could get complicated. Leo needed to be reminded that washing his hair required another step beyond simply sudsing up his scalp. When she forgot to remind him to rinse it out, he often wound up crying with soap in his eyes. Setting the table was done with everything mapped out and she still had to stand over him when he loaded the dishwasher and supervise the process.

“We have a lot of the school year left,” Mrs. Brown assured her.

Sienna wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for that or depressed by it. She thanked the teacher and left.

She saw Leo standing at Rita’s living room window when she went to pick him up, but by the time she got inside, he was hiding behind the couch. Rita had her toddler on her hip, and at the sight of Sienna little Linda squealed happily and reached for her, crying, “Si-si.”

“Hello, my beautiful niece,” she said and took the child. She would have loved to have had another child, but that probably wouldn’t happen now with no husband in the picture. As a single parent, she felt that one child was all she could handle, especially when that one child had special needs.

Still holding Linda, she walked into the living room. “You can come out now.”

Leo’s head popped around the corner of the couch. “Hi, Mama.”

“Have you been behaving yourself for Tía Rita?”

He nodded but still stayed behind the couch.

“How’d it go?” Rita asked.

Leo’s head disappeared.

“It could have been worse.” Sienna kissed the toddler’s head. “Your teacher says you’re a sweet boy. Is that true, my son?”

Leo peeked around the corner of the couch and made a silly face.

“And she says you’re a clown.”

“I like clowns.”

“That’s nice, but you can’t be a clown when you’re supposed to be doing your schoolwork,” Sienna told him.

He frowned.

“Tito will be disappointed if he hears you’re not paying attention in school,” put in Rita.

The frown dug deeper.

“But we’re going to work on that, aren’t we?” Sienna said cheerfully.

Leo went back behind the couch and now Sienna frowned.

“Remember, the teacher said what a sweet boy he is. I know a lot of parents who’d give anything to hear that from their kids’ teacher,” Rita said. “Come on out to the kitchen, have a cup of coffee.”

“No, we should get going. The snow’s starting to stick and I want to get home.”

“You’re good to go now. You’ve got snow tires.”

“I also want to get my lights up before it gets dark.”

“Okay, fine. Linda and I both should take a nap, anyway.”

Sienna gave back the baby and summoned her son, and he reluctantly came out of hiding. She felt as though she should give him a stern talking-to on the way home and insist that there would be no more showings of Cars until he stopped clowning around in class. But really, clowning was preferable to tears. So instead, she hugged him as they walked down her cousin’s front walk and told him she loved him.

“I’ll try harder, Mamacita,” he said softly.

“You just try your best. That’s all anyone can do.”

When she’d first left for her conference, only a few little snowflakes had been drifting lazily toward the ground. Now an entire army of flakes was falling, quickly smothering the street and adding to the thick blankets on the lawns.

“It’s snowing!” Leo announced.

Brrr. Maybe she’d rethink hanging her Christmas lights.

Except Leo hadn’t forgotten that decorating the house was on the agenda. “Can we do our lights now?”

“Yes, on one condition. You have to promise you’ll try to have a good attitude about schoolwork tonight.”

Leo frowned. “I promise,” he said reluctantly.

Once they got home, she fetched the boxes of lights she’d purchased earlier in the week. “This is going to look like Disneyland,” Leo predicted as he followed her out onto the front yard.

Hardly, but it would look nice.

The new snow had lured out many of the neighbor kids and they were racing back and forth through yards, throwing snowballs at each other. She caught Leo watching them, yearning to be a part of the fun. The last time he’d joined in, the fun had involved a baseball sailing through Mr. Cratchett’s living room window and it hadn’t turned out so well.

Jimmy Wilson, a nice little boy who lived a few houses down, came running up to them. “Can Leo play?”

Jimmy was one boy in the neighborhood who was kind to Leo, who didn’t see him as different. Jimmy was seven and Leo was nine. The age difference worked to Leo’s advantage.

“Yes!” Leo cried. “Can I go play?” he asked Sienna.

“Of course,” she said. Snowball fights were infinitely more exciting than putting up Christmas lights.

The words were barely out of her mouth before he and Jimmy were charging off across the lawn. As far as Leo was concerned, snow was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Sienna smiled until she heard a boy call, “Here comes the retard.”

Her jaws clamped together and her good mood evaporated. When Rita had suggested she leave LA and move to Icicle Falls, it had seemed like a good idea. Leo had been having trouble in school and she’d grown weary of the traffic, pollution and worrying about staying in a neighborhood that was becoming increasingly more populated with unsavory characters. A move to her cousin’s idyllic mountain town had seemed like the best solution, especially when Rita had painted a glowing picture of Icicle Falls. Gorgeous scenery, clean mountain air and a good school for Leo, friendly people.

But Sienna had quickly discovered that a small town could be just as hard on a child’s psyche as a big city. It hadn’t taken the other kids long to figure out that Leo wasn’t as mentally sharp as the rest of them. Then the bullies had surfaced and the name-calling had begun, leaving him hurt and angry.

She’d love to have aimed a snowball at whoever had just called out those hurtful words.

“I am not a retard,” Leo cried hotly.

Sienna turned to summon him back just in time to see Mr. Cratchett checking his mailbox, kids racing past him down the sidewalk. And here came Leo after the biggest one, a scowl on his face and a tightly packed snowball in his hand. He hurled it with all his might.

And missed.

His target danced away, laughing, even as the icy weapon beaned Mr. Cratchett on the head. Sienna watched in horror as Cratchett blinked, staggered and lost his balance, stumbling backward onto his lawn.

Chapter Four

Be sure to include that new family member in your holiday preparations.

—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays

Laughing and whooping, the herd of boys moved on, taking their snowball fight to the other end of the street.

Leo’s friend Jimmy stood for a moment, wide-eyed, and then he bolted.

Leo simply froze in the street, staring in horror.

“Leo, get out of the street!” Sienna called as she rushed to help Mr. Cratchett.

An approaching car honked and Leo jumped and moved out of the way. He slowly approached Cratchett, who was struggling to his feet, and said in a small voice, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay, Mr. Cratchett?” Sienna asked as she bent to help him up.

He waved away her hand. “I’m fine, no thanks to your son. I could’ve broken my hip. As it is, I think I’ve sprained my wrist.”

Oh, no. What if he had? What if he expected her to pay the doctor bill?

Now he was upright again and brushing the snow off his backside. Leo tried to help him and was promptly told to keep his hands to himself. “You’ll get the doctor bill for this,” he informed Sienna. Of course she would.

Just what she wanted for Christmas. “Absolutely,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re lucky I don’t sue you,” Cratchett added.

Oh, Lord. She wouldn’t put it past him.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Leo told him.

“Well, you did. Didn’t you?” Cratchett snapped.

“I didn’t mean to,” Leo repeated, tears beginning to make their appearance. “I was trying to hit Tommy Haskel.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sienna said, patting her son’s arm.

Cratchett glared at her. “It is not! These kids run around throwing snowballs every which way, hitting innocent bystanders, and then you coddle them.”

“He said he was sorry,” Sienna snapped, her mama-bear side showing itself.

Now Leo began to cry in earnest and she hugged him.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Sienna scolded Cratchett.

“Me?” he protested. “Who’s the one who got hit?”

At that moment a red truck pulled up to the curb. A large man with a dark beard wearing jeans, boots and a black parka stepped out of it. “Hey there, uncle. Making friends with the neighbors?” he said with a smile.

Cratchett told him he was a smart-ass and stomped back up his front walk.

This man was related to Mr. Cratchett? Poor him.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” said the man. “You must be the killer of the juniper bush.” He had a deep voice and a nice smile.

But Sienna was in no mood to smile back. “Your uncle is...impossible.”

“Yes, he is,” the man agreed.

“He’s made my life miserable ever since we moved in.” Why was she complaining to this man? As if he had any control over his uncle’s behavior?

“It’s a gift.” The man held out a gloved hand. “I’m Tim Richmond.”

She took his hand and shook it. His big hand swallowed hers and she felt a little tingle in her chest. Tingle bells, tingle bells... It’s been way too long.

Oh, stop, she commanded herself. Anyone even remotely related to Cratchett wasn’t worth getting stirred up over. He was probably married, anyway. If he took off his glove, she was sure there’d be a sign of ownership there on his left hand.

“Sienna Moreno,” she said, all business so her hormones would get the message. “This is my son, Leo.”

“I saw him in action when I was coming up the street. That’s quite an arm you’ve got on you, son, if you can knock a grown man over,” Tim said with a wink.

Leo looked at the man suspiciously and wiped his runny nose with his coat sleeve. “I didn’t mean to hit him.”

“I know you didn’t. Don’t mind the old guy. He gets grumpy sometimes.”

Sienna cocked an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”

“Well, okay, a lot of times.”

Now Cratchett had his front door open. “Are you going to get in here and fix my sink or just stand out there jawing all day?” he hollered.

“I’m coming. Keep your shirt on,” Tim hollered back.

“His shirt is on,” Leo pointed out.

“So far,” the man said. He had a nice smile. He opened the passenger door of his truck, reached inside and pulled out a toolbox. “Don’t mind my uncle. He’s got issues.”

As if that excused his behavior? “Well, I’m going to have issues before he’s done with me. Anyway, that’s no excuse for being rude to a child.”

“He’s mean,” put in Leo.

“Yeah, sometimes he is.”

“Are you coming?” roared Cratchett.

Tim scowled in the direction of his uncle’s house. “Shut the door, unc’,” he yelled. “I’ll be with you in a minute.” Cratchett’s door slammed shut and Tim turned his attention back to Sienna. “Nice to meet you. Maybe next time it will be under better circumstances.”

“If your uncle’s around? I’m not holding my breath,” Sienna replied. “Maybe you can give him kindness lessons,” she said, adding a smile to show her grumpiness wasn’t directed at him.

“Trust me, I keep trying.” He gave a friendly nod and then made his way up Cratchett’s front walk.

Wouldn’t it be nice to get someone like him for Christmas?

Sienna pushed away the thought. Her life was full enough with Leo and her family and friends. Besides, Cupid hadn’t exactly come through for her lately. After her ex and the losers she’d dated since her divorce, she didn’t trust the little guy.

“Come on,” she said to her son. “Let’s finish stringing our lights.”

Putting up the Christmas lights was enough to make Leo forget his earlier misery. His sunny disposition quickly surfaced once the front porch and windows were glowing with multicolored bulbs.

Sienna, too, was pleased with how pretty their house looked. There were certainly benefits to living in a gorgeous small town like Icicle Falls, and the home she was able to provide for her son was one of them.

An older couple from the neighborhood strolled by and waved. “Your house looks lovely,” the woman called.

“Thanks,” Sienna called back.

At least most of her neighbors were nice. If only the Grinch would come along and steal Cratchett. Then they’d have peace on earth.

* * *

Once the guests had checked out, Mondays were often a quiet day at the Icicle Creek Lodge, and Olivia took advantage of that to run errands or go shopping in nearby Wenatchee. She usually tried to buy from her fellow business owners in town, but many of those shops were closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. In addition to that, while the town was filled with charming specialty shops that catered to tourists, as well as a grocery store and drugstore, it was lacking the malls or department stores the larger cities boasted. When a woman wanted new underwear or a nightgown, she had to look elsewhere.

Today Olivia was in need of a new bra. She also wanted to do a little Christmas shopping, and this was as good a time as any to slip away and do it.

She mentioned her intention to scoot off while she and Brooke were in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast.

“Would you mind if I come with you?” Brooke asked. “Eric needs some new jeans and I want to pick up a few things for the baby.”

“Of course not. I’d love the company.”

She always enjoyed spending time with Brooke. Her daughter-in-law was sweet and generous and she shared Olivia’s love of elegant home furnishings, fancy soaps and all things lavender, especially the lavender lemonade and lavender cookies to be had at Bailey Black’s tearoom.

When they’d first met, Brooke had been mourning the loss of her mother and hadn’t been enthused about another woman taking her mom’s place in her father’s heart. But in the end she’d been happy to see both James and Olivia find love again, and while Olivia knew she could never take the place of Brooke’s mother, she and her stepdaughter had become good friends.

Once the last guests departed, Olivia and Brooke left, also. “We’ve been so busy it seems like we’ve hardly had any time together, so this is a real treat,” Olivia told her as Brooke drove them down Highway 2 out of town.

“Yes, it is,” Brooke agreed. “Gosh, I wonder if Meadow wanted to come with us.”

Olivia should have asked her, but really, she’d been looking forward to getting away from the girl for a while. “I’m sure she and Brandon are going skiing today,” she said airily, determined to silence the nudge from her conscience.

“I thought that was tomorrow.”

“Was it?”

“Should we go back?”

“They probably have plans. After all, they’re still newlyweds.” And brides wanted to spend time with their husbands. This bride did, certainly. She was always there. Every time Olivia hoped for a moment to enjoy her son’s company, along came Meadow, demanding attention, wanting him to go somewhere with her, needing Brandon’s advice. Sometimes Olivia thought the girl was jealous of the relationship she had with her son.

Who else is sounding a bit jealous? Olivia pushed the thought away, consigning it to a far corner of her mind, right along with her earlier vow to look for the good in her new daughter-in-law.

With all guilty thoughts gone, she enjoyed her afternoon with Brooke and got most of her holiday shopping done. She still had to think of something for Meadow. What would the girl like? Olivia had no idea. Well, she still had plenty of time until Christmas. She’d figure out what to get later.

“That was fun, Mom. Thanks,” Brooke said as they walked back into the lodge, laden with packages.

“Yes, it was,” Olivia agreed. The words were barely out of her mouth when she caught sight of Meadow on the first stair landing, looking down at them, the hurt plain on her face.

Oh, no. Olivia could feel her cheeks go hot with shame. She should have asked Meadow to join them.

Meadow whirled around and vanished down the hall and Olivia was aware of Brooke looking at her with concern. “I’d better ditch your father’s present before he returns from his errands,” Olivia said and beat a hasty retreat. There was going to be fallout from this.

Sure enough, she was barely done putting away her purchases when her son came to the apartment looking for her. It didn’t take a psychic to know why he was there.

She gave him a kiss and forestalled the unpleasant conversation by asking if he’d like a cup of coffee.

“No, thanks.” He wasn’t smiling.

“Were you and Eric able to fix those burned-out lights on the trees out front?” A silly question. She’d seen the two firs out front when she and Brooke returned and all the lights had been working fine.

“Yeah. Mom.”

Here it came. Olivia retreated to her kitchenette in search of coffee, Muffin, the cat, following in the hope of getting more cat food.

“Meadow’s feeling left out. She’d like to have gone shopping with you and Brooke.”

They should have gone back and invited Meadow. Wicked Mother-in-Law of the Year, that was her.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, dear, and she was nowhere in sight.” Olivia took a mug from the cupboard, keeping her back turned to her son.

“Would you have asked her if she was?”

She wasn’t that awful. “Of course.”

He frowned. “Mom, I know you don’t like her.”

Olivia focused her attention on putting a pod in her Keurig. “Don’t be silly. Of course I like her.” Oh, what a whopper.

“Is that why every time you smile at her, you look like you’ve got gas?”

“Don’t be crude.”

The scold didn’t sidetrack him. “You spend time with Brooke. You’ve got her doing a lot of stuff around here. Meadow could help, too.”

Ah, now here she at least had a leg to stand on. “She did on Thanksgiving Day, and I had her help decorate on Saturday.” Not content with being a handicap in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, Meadow had managed to drop a box of imported glass balls the day they decorated, breaking several. She’d been quick to point out that they hadn’t been very well packed. “Really, Brandon, what more do you want?” Olivia hoped he’d realize that was a rhetorical question.

He moved to her side and put a hand on her arm. “I want you to give her a chance. Can you do that, Mom? For me?”

Of course, she had to. If she didn’t, she’d lose her son. She turned to face him. “I’ll try. But honestly, I don’t know what you saw in this girl,” she couldn’t help adding.

His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Try harder—then maybe you’ll see.”

Okay, she deserved that. Even so, her son’s displeasure stung. She managed a nod.

Brandon’s expression softened. “She’s got a good heart, Mom, and she really wants to be part of the family.”

“I want her to be, too.” Another lie, but at this moment honesty would not be the best policy.

“Good, because otherwise it’s probably not going to work out for us to be here.”

The ultimatum made her blink, but she knew she shouldn’t be surprised by it. When it came to picking sides, a wise man sided with his wife. Sad for her, but that was how it should be. What God has put together, let no mother-in-law put asunder.

Anyway, a man shouldn’t have to choose. It was wrong of her to put her son in that position. “Darling, I really will make more of an effort, I promise,” she said with tears in her eyes. The thought of him leaving so soon after he’d decided to move back in with them was not one she wanted to consider.

He came around the counter and hugged her. “Thanks, Mom. I knew I could count on you.”

Theoretically. So far she hadn’t been very reliable. And that was hardly to her credit.

“I don’t think she’s got a good relationship with her mom,” he continued. “She could use someone in her corner.”

He was right. Olivia would do better. She’d try harder. “Maybe Meadow would like to help with breakfast. We only have a few guests checking in later today, so tomorrow will be easy.”

“Good idea,” he said, grinning.

That settled it, then. “Tell her to be in the kitchen tomorrow at six.”

“How about you tell her?”

After that moment in the lobby Olivia wasn’t particularly excited about facing her daughter-in-law, but she nodded. “All right.”

She didn’t exactly receive a warm welcome when she went to her son’s little suite at the opposite end of the lodge. The look Meadow gave her shot her back to an incident in her childhood when she and a friend had snubbed another little girl on the playground at lunch. The hurt had come off the child in waves and Olivia hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything the teacher said the whole rest of the afternoon. Those same waves were coming at her now.

“May I come in?” she asked.

Meadow nodded and moved aside, opening the door farther.

Olivia stepped in. The TV was on. Dr. Phil was working with a dysfunctional family. Olivia could almost hear him saying, You’re next, Mrs. Claussen. She cleared her throat. “Meadow, I’m sorry I didn’t think to invite you to come shopping with me today.” And sorry I didn’t want to think to!

Meadow studied the roses on the carpet. “It’s okay.”

Of course, it wasn’t, and the fact that Meadow was so quick to forgive only shone a spotlight on Olivia’s lack of kindness. “Maybe we can fit in an outing, just the two of us.” Penance.

Meadow’s gaze lifted and the gratitude Olivia saw in her daughter-in-law’s eyes made her feel small. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Meanwhile, I could use some help at breakfast tomorrow. Would you be up for that?”

The girl was beaming now. “Sure. What time?”

“We start serving at seven, so I need you in the kitchen at six.”

Meadow’s eyebrows shot up. “Six?”

“If that’s too early for you...” I’ll be off the hook.

“No, I can do that,” Meadow said gamely. “I’ll tell Brandon we have to wait and go night skiing.”

“Oh, if you had plans...”

“No, no. I’ll be there.”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re already busy...”

“I can change my plans. Really. I want to help.”

Olivia smiled weakly and tried not to think about the so-called help Meadow had been with the Thanksgiving Day meal. Well, they weren’t serving gravy at breakfast, so maybe it would be okay.

“If you’re sure,” she said in a last-ditch effort to give Meadow an out.

Except the one she was trying to give an out was herself. Once more that spotlight exposed Olivia’s own ignoble attitude. Who was the real ugly tree here?

“Oh, yeah,” Meadow said, still smiling. “I’m sure.”

Okay, the girl did seem to have a good heart. “Wonderful,” Olivia said. And darn it all, she was determined to mean it.

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