In the small Texas town of Mistletoe, the pretty little plant definitely lives up to its reputation for eliciting kisses!

Santa’s Mistletoe Mistake by Carla Cassidy

Little Libby asked Santa to bring her mommy a prince for Christmas: cowboys need not apply. That means cattleman Jake Hanson is definitely out. But the Man in Red works in mysterious ways….

A Merry Little Wedding by Cathy McDavid

Maid of honor Emma Sturlacky wishes she could enjoy the preparations for her mom’s Christmas wedding. If only it felt less like an echo of her own disastrous engagement. (And if only her handsome ex-fiancé, Nick Hayes, wasn’t one of the groomsmen!)

Mistletoe Magic by Marin Thomas

Who’s got more baggage: Finley McCarthy, the struggling single mom of boisterous twin boys, or Cooper Hollis, the jaded rancher caring for his curmudgeonly dad? Tough call. More important, will that baggage squash their chance at a budding romance?

Praise for Carla Cassidy

“Small towns, dangerous secrets and painful pasts are expertly conveyed in Cassidy’s clever hands, speeding readers toward surprising revelations.”

—RT Book Reviews on Scene of the Crime: Widow Creek

“Cassidy crafts sympathetic characters…along with a strong, well-developed plot. A charmingly sweet and ruggedly strong hero is the icing on the cake.…”

—RT Book Reviews on Cowboy with a Cause

“A sweet story filled with strong tension and endless conflict. The intricate plot and strong suspense will keep you turning the pages.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Colton Bride

Praise for Cathy McDavid

“Her Cowboy’s Christmas Wish was the perfect Christmas gift. Cathy McDavid has done a magnificent job in creating two wounded characters that are so deserving of love’s healing balm.”

—Romance Junkie Reviews

“McDavid’s characters are stubborn and entertaining and they have a supporting cast that will leave readers laughing out loud.”

—RT Book Reviews on First Homecoming

Praise for Marin Thomas

“A delight to read. Watching the hero be won over by two rambunctious boys and their intelligent and tenderhearted mother makes for a charming tale.”

—RT Book Reviews on Twins Under the Christmas Tree

“For the Children…will have readers laughing out loud and glued to the pages thanks to the author’s zany characters. Ms. Thomas manages to keep the romance center stage in this wonderful story.…”

—RT Book Reviews

CARLA CASSIDY

is a New York Times bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than one hundred books for Mills & Boon. Before settling into her true love—writing—she was a professional cheerleader, an actress and a singer/dancer in a show band.

Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer to write her next story. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers. Visit her website at carlacassidybooks.com/.

CATHY McDAVID

New York Times bestselling author Cathy McDavid lives in Scottsdale, Arizona, near the breathtaking McDowell Mountains, where hawks fly overhead and mountain lions occasionally come calling. Horses and ranch animals have also been a part of Cathy’s life since she moved to Arizona as a child and asked her mother for riding lessons. Little wonder she loves ranch stories and often incorporates her own experiences into her books for Mills & Boon American Romance. Cathy and her family enjoy spending time at their nearby cabin. Of course, she takes her laptop with her on the chance inspiration strikes. You can visit her website at www.cathymcdavid.com.

MARIN THOMAS

Marin grew up in Janesville, Wisconsin. She left the Midwest to attend college at the University of Arizona in Tucson, where she played basketball for the Lady Wildcats and earned a BA in radio-TV. Following graduation she married her college sweetheart in a five-minute ceremony at the historical Little Chapel of the West in Las Vegas, Nevada. Over the years she and her family have lived in seven different states but now make their home in Arizona. The rugged desert and breathtaking sunsets provide inspiration for Marin’s popular cowboy books for Mills & Boon American Romance. Visit her website at www.marinthomas.com.

A Mistletoe Christmas

Santa’s Mistletoe Mistake

Carla Cassidy

A Merry Little Wedding

Cathy McDavid

Mistletoe Magic

Marin Thomas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

About the Authors

Title Page

Santa's Mistletoe Mistake

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

A Merry Little Wedding

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

Epilogue

Mistletoe Magic

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

Copyright

Santa’s Mistletoe Mistake

Carla Cassidy

To everyone who believes in the spirit of giving, of children’s laughter and open hearts, may you have a magical Christmas filled with miracles!

Happy holidays.

CHAPTER ONE

JAKE HANSON HATED CHRISTMAS. Every year he swore that when the holiday approached he’d get on a plane, leap on a train and leave the small town of Mistletoe, Texas, where everyone went just a little more than crazy at Christmas.

The madness started just after Thanksgiving, when colorful lights were strung and the gazebo in the town square was draped with ribbons and candy canes and the ever-present mistletoe.

It was a week before Christmas, and the mistletoe madness had nearly reached its peak as he parked his truck in front of the Mistletoe Café.

He got out of his truck and hurried toward the café door, eager to get out of the cold and get some dinner before heading back to his silent, empty two-story ranch house.

The heavenly scent of warm muffins and hot coffee greeted him, along with the clink of silverware and the laughter of friends dining together, which shot a surprisingly sharp pang of loneliness through him.

“Jake!” Suzie Walker, the red-haired owner of the establishment, met him at the door, a sprig of mistletoe in her hand. She raised her hand as high as it would go, which thankfully didn’t reach near the top of his head.

“Are you going to bend down so that we can share a kiss under the mistletoe?” she asked. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with merriment.

“Not a chance, Suzie. Roger would beat the living heck out of me if he saw me kissing his wife.”

She dropped her plump arm down and gave him a look of mock disappointment. “I haven’t managed to snag a single kiss because of that big fat old man of mine.”

Jake smiled. Roger was a big fat older man, who made a perfect Santa each year for the children of Mistletoe. “How about you snag me a booth so I can get some dinner?” He pulled his Stetson off his head.

Suzie sighed. “Follow me, cowboy.”

As she led him toward a booth in the back, he raised his hand and nodded to nearly everyone he passed. He’d grown up with most everyone in the café. The town’s total population was only between 1,800 and 2,000 people, small enough that practically everyone knew everyone else. However, at this time of year there were always tourists drifting in and out of town.

As he passed the booth in front of the one Suzie was leading him to, he saw his neighbor, Melody Martin, seated alone. On impulse he stopped at her booth. “Melody, mind if I join you?” He slid into the seat across from her before she could reply. He smiled at her and set his hat next to him. “I hate to eat alone.”

“Oh...I... Sure,” she stuttered in surprise.

“Well, then,” Suzie said, looking at Jake and then at Melody. “I’ve already taken Melody’s order. What can I get for you?” She looked back at Jake.

“Whatever the special is—that should do it,” he replied, slightly shocked at his own forwardness now that he was seated across from the first woman who had captured his attention in years.

“Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and a Mistletoe muffin,” Suzie replied.

“And coffee,” Jake added.

As Suzie left to head to the kitchen, Jake looked across the table and noted the bright red coat and the shopping bags that took up most of the booth beside Melody.

“Where’s your daughter?” he asked. He didn’t know a lot about Melody, but he knew she was a widow and had a six-year-old daughter.

“She’s spending the evening with a friend. It gave me the opportunity to do some Santa shopping for her.” She wrapped her hands around a cup that he saw held the famous Mistletoe Toddy, a mulled-cider drink with all kinds of secret ingredients assured to bring happiness.

Bah humbug, he thought. He looked around the busy café and then back at her, feeling slightly ill at ease. “I really didn’t give you a chance to say no before I sat down. If you’d prefer that I sit someplace else, I’ll move.”

“You’re fine,” she replied with an easy smile that shot a touch of warmth through him. “I was just thinking that it isn’t much fun to eat alone. I’m so used to Libby filling every silence.”

“How’s the dance business going?” he asked as he worked his way out of his leather coat and set it next to his hat beside him.

“Good. We had our Christmas recital last night, so classes are officially finished until after the New Year.”

Melody had bought the house nearest his ranch eight months before and had immediately built on a dance studio in the back. According to local gossip, half the kids in town now took lessons from her.

Suzie arrived with his coffee, and after she left, Jake took a drink, wondering what the heck he was doing sitting across from a woman he found ridiculously attractive when he had no intention of ever having any kind of serious relationship with a woman again.

Melody wore a blue sweater that perfectly matched her eyes. She had the elegant features of classic beauty but didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup except for a touch of mascara.

“So this is your first Christmas here in Mistletoe,” he said as he set his cup back on the table. “What do you think?”

Her blue eyes sparkled as she shoved an errant long dark strand of hair that had escaped the low ponytail behind her shoulders. “I think it’s all wonderful. There’s such joy in the air, and it’s amazing how the whole town comes together to create Mistletoe magic. What about you? Don’t you love it?”

“Ms. Christmas...meet the Grinch,” he replied.

She raised a perfect dark brow. “Really? You don’t like Christmas?”

“A far as I’m concerned, I’d be happy if we all just skipped this holiday.”

“But from what I’ve learned, mistletoe and Christmas is important to the town. It’s what made the town, and the mistletoe has become a profitable cottage industry.”

The conversation halted as Suzie arrived with their orders. Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and one of the muffins the café was known for, and for Melody, rabbit food—a salad with grilled-chicken strips.

“What brought you and your daughter here?” he asked once they were alone again. “I heard through the grapevine that you were from the Dallas area.”

She picked up her fork and smiled once again. She had a beautiful smile, and he felt as if he’d just swallowed a shot of scotch that warmed him from head to toe.

“I’ve learned that the grapevine is pretty healthy here in Mistletoe.”

He grinned. “By morning, everyone will know that you and I had dinner together, and trust me, there will be embellishments.”

“At least neither of us is married, so there can’t be too much of a scandal,” she replied in amusement. “Anyway, to answer your question, it’s true we’re from Dallas. My husband passed away two years ago, and it wasn’t long before I realized Libby and I needed a change, a place to start over. We’d visited Mistletoe a couple of years ago and I decided it was a good place to make a new beginning.”

“Have you always been a dancer?” he asked. She looked like a dancer, tall and lithe and graceful, the exact opposite of what he’d always thought to be his type.

“Always. I had a studio in Dallas, so it was only natural that I’d open one here. Not only does it pay the bills, but I love it. Do you dance?”

He laughed, the sound a bit rusty to his ears, making him realize that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed out loud. “I can manage a Mistletoe two-step if I’m forced, but that’s about it.”

For the next few minutes they fell silent as they focused on their meals, and once again Jake found himself questioning the impulse that had made him jump into the seat opposite her.

He hadn’t looked twice at a woman for over five years, but the first time he’d encountered his new neighbor, a spark of something had lit inside him.

Lust, he told himself. It had been so long since he’d been with a woman he’d forgotten what lust felt like, and he certainly didn’t understand why the dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty across the table from him seemed to stir it up inside him.

“Tell me about your daughter,” he said, certain that a discussion about a little girl would squelch any inappropriate thoughts he might entertain.

Again she flashed him that wide, beautiful smile. “Libby is the love of my life. She’s bright and giving and makes me laugh. She’s also precocious and willful and occasionally throws a temper tantrum when she doesn’t get her way.”

“Sounds as though you’ve got your hands full.”

“In a good way,” she replied easily.

He relaxed a bit. Not only was he not interested in any kind of a long-term relationship with a woman, he especially wasn’t interested in kids.

They both turned to look as bursts of laughter came from the front of the café. Suzie had managed to get her mistletoe over the head of old George McKnight, and as the two shared a kiss, the crowd clapped its approval.

“That’s a tradition I don’t particularly like,” he said as he focused his attention back to Melody. “I also don’t like New Year’s Eve kisses. I think kisses should mean something and should only be shared between people who love each other.”

He felt the flames that filled his cheeks. What was he doing sharing that with a woman who was a virtual stranger? The madness of Mistletoe had obviously made him truly crazy.

“That’s a nice sentiment,” she replied softly.

“Thanks,” he replied, and motioned for a check from Suzie. He felt the sudden need to escape. He needed to get back to his ranch, where there were no Christmas decorations and no mistletoe anywhere in sight.

Suzie arrived at the table with the check, and Jake looked at Melody. “Since I invited myself to your meal, I’d like to buy your dinner.”

“That’s not necessary,” she protested.

“Consider it a Christmas gift,” he replied as he stood and grabbed his coat and hat from the booth next to him. With a murmured goodbye, he left the booth and hurried to the cashier. He paid the bill and then put his hat on his head and left the café.

As he drove home, he knew he’d mentally gone around the bend. He hated the tradition of a kiss under a sprig of mistletoe, and yet he couldn’t get the vision of Melody Martin in his arms beneath the shiny green leaves with their waxy white berries.

* * *

MELODY RELEASED A deep breath as Jake left the table. Once again she curled her hands around her cup of warm Mistletoe Toddy.

The man was sin on legs, she thought. His slightly shaggy dark hair begged for female fingers to thread through it. His eyes were an interesting shade of silvery-gray, and his rugged features came together in a way that radiated both strength and handsomeness.

His pasture came very close to her yard, and she had spent far too much time over the past several months standing at her kitchen sink and watching him ride his fence line.

Long-legged, broad-shouldered and with a slender waist... The man could have been a pinup model in a Cowboy of the Month calendar.

Town gossip had let her know that he was a loner who came in the café often to eat but didn’t do much socializing. Not that it mattered to her; the very last thing she’d ever want in her life again was a cowboy.

Been there, done that and had the heartache that would last a lifetime. Her marriage had been a happy one, and at least she had Libby to fill some of the space that had been emptied in her heart when Seth died.

Moving to this little town with its community closeness and aura of joy had been a good decision. Libby was thriving, as was the dance studio, and it was only occasionally after Libby went to bed that the ache of loneliness unexpectedly gripped Melody.

Tonight there would be no time for loneliness. Once Libby was asleep, Melody would creep out to the car to retrieve the gifts she’d bought, and then wrap them and hide them back in the trunk of the car.

There would be no time for loneliness in the next week. There was so much going on in the town, events and fun that she and Libby intended to immerse themselves in. There were sing-alongs and tours of the local mistletoe ranches, a night of caroling and of course a visit with Santa.

She glanced at her watch and realized it was time for her to load her packages into the car and head out to pick up Libby. She took a last drink of the yummy hot toddy and then pulled on her coat, grabbed her shopping bags and hurried toward her car, which was parked in front of Carrie’s Christmas Shop.

Within minutes she was on her way to Laura and Jack McKinny’s house on Mistletoe Lane. Their daughter, Megan, not only took dance lessons at the studio, but she and Libby had become best friends.

Mistletoe Lane was decked out for the season with bunches of mistletoe hanging from every streetlamp, along with trailing red ribbons. White sparkling lights created a lovely shimmer on the whole street.

Laura greeted her at her front door with a warm hug. “Did you get finished with what you needed?” she asked.

“Santa shopping all done,” Melody replied. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping Libby busy so I could get out alone.”

“No problem. Want to stick around for a cup of coffee?” Laura asked.

“Rain check?” Melody replied. “To be honest, I’m exhausted and ready to get home and settled in.”

“Then, next time,” Laura replied with a friendly smile. She was one of the first women Melody had made friends with when they’d moved here. Laura was a teacher at the grade school and her husband worked at the bank.

She took a couple of steps down the hallway. “Libby, your mom is here.” Girlie groans filled the air.

“That sounds like her ‘not so happy to see me’ noise,” Melody said.

Laura laughed. “They’re at that age.” She rolled her eyes.

Libby came running up the hall, her long dark pigtails bouncing with each step. “Mom, my princess doll was just about to meet her prince.” Blond-haired Megan ran just behind Libby.

“I guess she’ll have to wait until another time to meet her prince. It’s time for us to head home. Now, what do you say to Ms. Laura and Megan?”

“Thank you for having me over. I had a super time,” Libby said. “And maybe Megan can come over real soon and we can play at my house.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Laura said as she handed Libby her coat.

“Thanks again,” Melody said, and then she and Libby headed to their car.

“I had such fun,” Libby said as she buckled her seat belt. “We played games and then got out all of Megan’s fashion doll stuff. She has a ton of it.”

“I’m glad you had a good time. Did you eat dinner?”

“We had mac and cheese and hot dogs. Megan is my best friend ever. We’ve decided we’re going to get married on the same day and we’ll buy houses next to each other and our husbands will be best friends, too.”

As Libby continued to chatter, Melody found her thoughts drifting back to the unexpected dinner with Jake. Why had he decided to join her?

She hadn’t been averse to his company, and he certainly hadn’t been hard to look at from across the table, but it seemed out of character from what she’d heard about him.

She had to confess that she’d entertained a silly crush on him since the moment she’d first seen him. But she’d decided when Seth died that there would be no more cowboys in her life. If she ever decided to marry again it would be to a lawyer or a banker who didn’t work with horses that could kick them in the head and kill them.

Libby was still talking about her time with Megan when they arrived home. Home was a nice little ranch house with three bedrooms, an airy kitchen and a living room.

She’d used most of Seth’s life-insurance money to build the dance studio on the back of the house, knowing that teaching dancing was what she knew and was what would put food on the table and keep the lights on.

There was also a small barn complete with running water and several hay bales that Melody had bought a month ago when Libby had decided she’d like to have rabbits. By the time Melody had bought a cage and the hay, Libby had changed her mind.

It was after seven, and she pointed her daughter toward the bathroom. “Bath time,” she said. “And then I’ll read you a story before you go to bed.”

It had been a long day for both of them, and Melody was hoping to get her daughter to sleep early so she could take a little time to unwind and dance a bit in the studio and wrap the presents she’d bought that day.

With the Santa shopping done, she had nothing to worry about for the rest of the week except enjoying the town activities and immersing herself in the Christmas spirit.

It was close to eight-thirty by the time she finally got Libby into bed. She sat down next to her daughter and pulled the blanket up around her neck, then kissed her strawberry-scented cheek.

Libby slammed her hand against her cheek to keep the kiss there for the remainder of the night. It was a routine that had begun when she was little more than a baby.

It was also a routine that Melody read to Libby each night before the lights went out. She wanted her daughter to love reading, to know that by reading you could explore all kinds of new worlds.

Although she knew eventually Libby would be asking for electronic readers and computers that played games and whatever, for now Melody was glad that the toys on Libby’s Christmas list had been of the nonelectronic type. Time enough for all that later.

When she had finished reading for the night, Libby reached up and placed her palm against Melody’s face. “I can’t wait for Santa Claus to come,” she said drowsily. “He’s gonna have a big surprise for you.”

“For me?” Melody smiled at her sleepy daughter. “I already have the best present in the world, and that’s you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER TWO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t she beautiful, Mom?”

Tacky was closer to the word Melody might have used.

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you headed now?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s a cute one,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll be ready,” Melody replied.

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER THREE

A DOZEN TIMES throughout the afternoon, Jake thought about calling Melody to cancel the wagon ride. The first thought came when he viewed the wagon, which had been stored in a shed for the past five years.

It had been Stacy’s idea to buy the wagon with the bench seat and slatted sides specifically to chauffeur friends and neighbors into town for the Christmas festivities. He hadn’t realized that the sight of it again would bring a pang as he remembered his late wife.

He hitched up two of his strongest horses and pulled the wagon from the shed, and then spent the next two hours cleaning away the dust and cobwebs that clung to it.

He unhooked the horses to let them graze on some hay, as it was far too early to have them ready for the evening ride, then he grabbed a machete and headed for a large stand of evergreens that stood on his property.

Instantly he was surrounded by the sweet scent of pine. It took him two trips to get enough boughs to tie along the sides of the wagon.

Again, he thought of calling Melody and canceling the whole night when he pulled down from the shed a box of huge bright red bows that Stacy had made specifically to decorate the wagon.

He’d loved going to all this work for her, and now he was doing it for a woman he hardly knew and a little girl who had taken an instant dislike to him. Still, he tied the bows onto the wagon and didn’t make a call to cancel.

In the box with the bows, he found several brand-new packages of battery-operated red-and-white lights, and he knew that Stacy had bought them for the wagon just before her death.

Emotion rose in his throat while he strung the lights and tested each string, vaguely surprised that after all this time they worked.

It was nearly five o’clock by the time he had finished the transformation from an old dusty wagon to a vehicle Santa would be proud of. All he had left to do was lay down fresh hay, put bows on the horses’ ears and strap a band of jingle bells across their backs.

He ate a dinner of leftover chili, and thoughts of Stacy filled his head. She’d been a Christmas freak, ready to put up a tree by Thanksgiving, and decorating the house with spinning Santas and dancing reindeer and all the tinsel and baubles the furniture would hold. She’d been so filled with life, and when she died, she’d stolen the very life out of him.

He’d gone through all the stages of grief, denial and anger, isolation and depression, but he realized now that at some point over the past year he’d moved quietly into tenuous acceptance.

He would always mourn what he’d lost, but he was also tired of being angry and depressed, and something about Melody Martin had pulled him out of his shell of isolation.

After dinner he showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue flannel shirt, and as an afterthought sprayed on a bit of cologne.

He grabbed his suede coat, knowing the night would be cold, and headed back outside to finish up the final touches to the wagon and the horses.

* * *

NERVES JANGLED THROUGH his veins as the time to leave arrived. Crazy, he told himself. It was crazy to be nervous about a simple jaunt down Main Street. It was even crazier to believe that his nerves had to do with Melody sharing the bench seat with him.

At the last minute he grabbed a thick red blanket and tossed it on the bench next to him. He and Melody would get the brunt of the cold as they traveled. Libby would be warmed by the sweet, scented hay that filled the wagon.

The sound of the jingle bells filled the air with a joyous melody, and the lights twinkled along the sides of the wagon as night fell fast. He pulled up in front of Melody’s house at precisely seven o’clock.

It was as if she and her daughter had been standing at the door waiting for him. They burst out of the house, and as he saw Libby’s face light up with such excitement, such joy, he knew at that moment why he’d gone to all the trouble.

“Oh, Mom, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed.

“It is,” Melody agreed. Her gaze met Jake’s, and he wanted to fall into the warmth that radiated from those beautiful blue eyes. “You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble.”

“What are the horses named?” Libby asked. She jumped up and down, looking cute in a red coat that matched her mother’s.

“Why, Dasher and Dancer, of course,” he replied. “I thought your mother might ride up here next to me, and as you can see, the wagon bed has bales of hay for seats and a nice soft bedding of hay to help keep you warm.”

Libby walked to the back of the wagon and looked inside. “Perfect,” she announced. “Even though I don’t like you much, could you help me up?” she asked him.

He tilted his cowboy hat back just a bit to eye her. “I suppose I could if I heard the magic word.”

“Please,” Libby replied.

She was as light as a feather and as wiggly as a worm as he lifted her into his arms and placed her in the bed of the wagon. She went to the bale of hay directly behind the bench seat.

“I only have one rule,” he said once she was settled. “While we’re going into town, you have to stay sitting down. Once we get to town and slow down, then you can stand up and hang on to the top of the sides.”

“All my friends can stand up when we are in town?” she asked.

“All of your friends? I thought we were only picking up one.”

Libby pulled her coat closer around her and eyed him boldly. “I called some of my other friends this afternoon. Since you want me to like you, I thought you wouldn’t mind.” She blinked long dark lashes innocently.

She was a pip, that one, he thought as he helped Melody up to the bench and then joined her and took the reins. “I should have told you about the other friends earlier, but I didn’t know she’d made the calls until ten minutes before you arrived,” Melody said.

“It’s all right. Maybe this will get me on her good side,” he replied with a smile.

“I asked her this afternoon why she didn’t like you, but she refused to give me an answer.”

“Maybe she’ll warm up to me just a little bit after tonight.” With the jingle of bells and the lights on the wagon casting out in the darkness, and the scent of Melody’s perfume mingling with the fresh smell of pine, a sense of peace stole over him.

“So tell me what you two window-shoppers bought today,” he asked.

As she talked about what stores they’d gone in and what they’d bought, he realized he would gladly listen to her if she were reading a cookbook out loud. Her voice held a joy that he had a feeling was her natural state of mind.

Thankfully he wasn’t haunted by visions of Stacy at his side. His attention was divided between the road and Melody. Her cheeks had turned pink with the wind and her hair quickly became a windblown mass of silky strands.

When they went over a bump in the road, Melody’s laughter mingled with Libby’s, and Jake felt a sense of connection, a wave of utter happiness he hadn’t felt for a very long time. It was delightful, and it was equally dangerous.

He didn’t mind spending some time with his beautiful neighbor and her daughter, but he would never, ever give his heart away again. Been there, done that, and the pain of loss had left him forever incapable of love.

* * *

MELODY SNUGGLED BENEATH the red blanket Jake had provided and listened to the magical sound of childish laughter coming from the bed of the wagon.

It seemed that Libby had invited half the town’s children to join them in their ride. She marveled at Jake’s patience as he stopped by house after house and lifted little bodies into the back.

Seth had been a good man, a good husband, but patience had never been one of his strong suits. She’d often wished he’d display a little more patience to the little girl who had been so enamored of her daddy.

By the time they finally headed down Main Street toward the center square, the back of the wagon was filled with chattering, laughing children.

“Let’s make a real entrance,” he yelled back to the kids. “How about we all start singing ‘Jingle Bells’?” He started them off, his baritone voice sending an unexpected shiver of pleasure up Melody’s spine.

She could smell his cologne, a spicy scent that made her want to find the source. Had he splashed it on his shirt, or was it in the hollow of his throat where she could nuzzle her nose?

Something about Jake Hanson made her feel like a giddy teenager with a crush. Conversation had become impossible between them the moment the children had begun to pile up.

Still, she was happy just sitting next to him, watching the play of emotions on his handsome face. Main Street in Mistletoe was filled with shoppers and people lingering around the beautiful gazebo in the center of the square.

A group of people had begun singing carols, their voices adding to what was already for her a festive night. She wondered how Jake would react if she snuggled closer to him.

The thought flew out of her mind as quickly as it had come. Not only would Jake probably think her forward and inappropriate, Libby would have a hissy fit.

He brought the wagon to a halt in a parking space in front of the center square. “Sit tight,” he said to Melody, and then he got down and went to the back of the wagon to unload the children. “There are ten of you here, and when the wagon gets ready to leave again, there’d better be ten of you back here. You’re only allowed to go directly to the gazebo. Ms. Melody and I will be there in a few minutes.”

He climbed back on the seat as the children all ran toward the gazebo. “We can see them all from here, and I thought if we waited just a bit we’d have a chance to talk.”

“I’d like that,” she replied. “For a man who hates Christmas, you sure pulled out all the stops tonight.”

“The look on Libby’s face was worth it. Besides, Christmas is for kids. Adults don’t have to like it, we just have to endure it.”

“You’re wrong, Jake. Christmas is magic, and it’s magic for everyone. It’s the one time of year people come together and sing about peace on earth, and even the most curmudgeonly of human beings find something to be joyful about.”

“Are you calling me a curmudgeon?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

“If the boot fits...” She laughed as he looked outraged.

“Maybe it has fit over the past couple of years,” he finally said thoughtfully.

“I heard about your wife. Trust me, I understand the pain.” She touched his gloved hand with her own, wishing she could feel the warmth of his skin. “I was lucky. I had Libby. I had to get past Seth’s death so I could be the mother she needed.” She pulled her hand from his and looked toward the gazebo. “Maybe we should get out and make our way to the kids,” she said, not wanting the conversation to get too deep. It wasn’t the time or the place.

“When it comes time to leave it’s going to be like herding cattle,” he said as he got down and came around to her side of the wagon to help her. He surprised her by grabbing her around the waist and sliding her to the ground.

For a brief moment he held on to her. Despite all their clothing, warmth filtered through her at his nearness. She fought the impulse to lean into him, to have his arms surround her as she closed her eyes and listened to the childish voices singing, “Santa Claus is Coming to Mistletoe.”

Instead she stepped back from him, both appalled and intrigued that the man who had just been a neighbor had squeezed a little bit into her heart.

She grabbed his hand and tugged him to run with her. He groaned aloud, but when she caught a glimpse of his face in the twinkling lights that decorated the gazebo, there was a relaxed happiness that only made him more handsome.

The fact that the loner, the self-proclaimed Christmas Grinch smiled as he tightened his grip on her hand assured her that Mistletoe magic was at work...at least for tonight.

It was an evening of laughter and song and visiting with friends. While the kids expended their energy running races around the gazebo and singing, Melody and Jake found an empty bench nearby.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he said. He returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of Mistletoe Toddy.

“If you aren’t careful, somebody might think you’re actually enjoying all this,” she said after she thanked him for the drink. She took off her gloves to hold the warm foam cup and noticed that he was also gloveless.

“Actually, I think it’s the company I’m keeping that I’m enjoying, not so much the holiday or the silly mistletoe madness.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I’m enjoying the company, too,” she replied.

For the next hour they drank their toddies and talked about favorite movies, types of music they enjoyed and all the questions that people asked when getting to know each other better.

It felt like a first date, although Melody reminded herself it was nothing of the sort. It wasn’t a date at all. It was simply neighbors getting better acquainted.

At nine o’clock they began to round up the children for the trip home. The parents had been promised that their sons and daughters would be delivered back home safely before ten.

The children were quieter when they piled back into the wagon, but their faces glowed with a tired happiness. By the time they pulled up in front of Melody’s house, Libby was curled up on a hay bale and sound asleep.

“I’ll get her,” Jake offered. He climbed into the bed of the wagon and picked up the sleeping child, who immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, but didn’t appear to awaken.

Melody hurried to unlock her front door and guided Jake through the living room and down the hallway to the purple explosion that was Libby’s bedroom.

He placed her gently on her bed. “Night, Daddy,” she murmured, but it was obvious they were the words of a sleeping child.

Jake left the bedroom and followed Melody back to the front door. “Thank you so much, Jake. It was such a fun night.”

“I enjoyed it,” he said, his voice holding a touch of surprise.

He took a step toward her, and her heart skipped a beat. Desire glowed from his eyes, a sweet desire that made her think he intended to kiss her. She found her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

He reached out a hand and shoved back a strand of her hair, and then stepped back once again. “Good night, Melody,” he said, and walked out the door.

She watched as he climbed back on the wagon seat and with a jingle of bells, finally disappeared into the darkness. She closed and locked her front door and then leaned her back against it.

She closed her eyes at the memory of his scent, of the drowning depths of his gray eyes. She was slightly appalled by the fact that she’d wanted him to kiss her. It had been a long time since she’d hungered for a man’s kiss, a man’s touch. It was a reminder to her that her grief had passed and the future held all kinds of exciting possibilities.

She didn’t know yet if Jake was simply a friendly neighbor or if he might become something more in her life. She would have to wait and see how things progressed between them and if he could possibly win the heart of a little girl, because if he couldn’t do that, then he would never be more than a very hot, very nice neighbor.

CHAPTER FOUR

JAKE AWOKE CRANKY, and he had a feeling it was because he felt guilty that he’d enjoyed the night before with Melody and the kids.

He’d rolled over in his big king-size bed, and the first thing he saw in the early dawn light was the picture of Stacy that had been on his nightstand since the day they had married over seven years ago.

Her chocolate-brown eyes appeared to glare at him accusingly, even though he knew he was imagining it. Her short, curly blond hair set off her pixielike features.

The tormenting pain he’d felt for so long whenever he gazed at the picture or allowed himself to dwell on thoughts of what might have been no longer plagued him. But he would always have a wealth of sadness when he thought of her.

He’d promised to love her through eternity, and while he would always have love in his heart for her, he’d never dreamed that he’d want to spend time with another woman—a woman who made him laugh, a woman who made him feel wonderfully alive for the first time in years.

He got out of bed, grateful that he had morning chores that hopefully would keep the thought of all females out of his head. It took him most of the morning to check on his herd of cattle and ride the fence line looking for breaches or other issues.

It was only as he rode the fence nearest Melody’s house that visions of her once again filled his head. She’d looked so beautiful the night before with the wintry breeze whipping color into her cheeks and her beautiful eyes sparkling with merriment.

Night, Daddy. Libby’s sleepy words had shot a different kind of pain through him.

Jake had been ready for children the minute he and Stacy had finished their wedding ceremony. But Stacy had wanted to wait. If they’d had a child at the time Jake had wanted, he or she would have been about Libby’s age.

Maybe if he’d had a child when Stacy had died, he would have pulled himself together more quickly instead of wallowing in grief and isolation for so many years.

By the time he finished his chores and got back into the house, it was lunchtime. He made himself a couple of sandwiches and listened to the news and weather. He frowned as he heard the forecast for a fast-moving winter storm predicted to move in midevening on Christmas Eve.

He couldn’t care less about the storm, because he had no intention of participating in whatever festivities the town might have planned for the night, but he’d hate to see the people of Mistletoe disappointed if special events had to be canceled due to weather.

He finished his meal with a cup of coffee in hand as he stood at the window that gave him a view of Melody’s house. He sipped the hot brew and realized he didn’t want the day to pass without seeing her and Libby again.

Acting strictly on impulse, he set his coffee cup down and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. It took him only minutes to locate the number for Melody’s dance studio, and he punched in the number before he might change his mind.

“Melody speaking.” Her voice filled the line.

“Jake speaking,” he replied, his heart lifting at the mere sound of her voice. “I was wondering if you and Libby would like to join me tonight for dinner at the Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant.”

“Oh, that’s one of the places Libby and I had on our list of things to do before Christmas, but had decided we’d do it next year because it’s rather expensive.”

“If you come with me tonight, then you won’t have to worry about the expense. You’d both be my guests.”

“Jake, it’s too much,” she began to protest.

“Don’t you worry about anything but putting on your pretty clothes and being ready around six,” he replied. “Besides, you’d be doing me a favor. That place has the best steaks in the entire state and I’m hungry for one, but you know I don’t like to eat alone.”

She laughed, obvious of the fact that he’d turned it around so that they would be doing him a favor rather than the other way around. “Okay, then, we’ll be ready at six.”

What are you doing, man? he asked himself once he had hung up the phone. Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant was located ten miles outside of the town. It was built on a hill that overlooked one of the mistletoe farms and was a favorite for tourists and townspeople celebrating special occasions.

He and Stacy had talked about going there often but had never actually gone. This would be a new experience for him as well as Melody and Libby.

The afternoon crawled by, and he was grateful when it was time to shower and dress for dinner. He exchanged his jeans for a pair of black dress slacks and his flannel shirt for a long-sleeved blue button-up shirt. Splashing on cologne, he then took a little time to polish up his black cowboy boots, and with his hat on his head, he took off for Melody’s place.

He tried to ignore the quickened beat of his heart in anticipation of spending another evening with her, but there was no denying that he felt like a schoolboy headed on a date with a popular cheerleader.

Even his palms were slightly damp by the time he pulled up in front of her house. Dusk had fallen, and night wasn’t far behind.

Melody’s house looked like an homage to gaudy. Not only did colored lights outline her house and end at a huge, bright white star at the peak of the roof, but each window was also framed by flashing purple lights. Jake had a feeling the purple lights were the idea of the little purple-loving princess.

He got out of his Jeep and walked to the front door. When Melody answered his knock, for a moment he couldn’t speak as he took in the vision of her in a royal blue dress cinched at her slender waist with a blue-and-black belt. Her legs beneath the flirty skirt appeared to go on forever and ended in a pair of blue high heels.

“Wow,” he finally managed to say. “You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you, sir. And you clean up pretty well yourself.”

Libby came down the hallway in a purple velvet dress and with a tiara on her head. “No tiara,” Melody said, and held out a purple coat with white furry cuffs to her daughter.

“But you said it was a fancy restaurant, and I want to wear it,” Libby protested.

“How about we compromise?” Jake suggested. “You can wear it on the way to the restaurant, and then when we get there you can take it off.”

“Fine,” Libby said in a tone that belied her acquiescence.

Melody pulled on a black coat and the three of them left the house.

“I made sure to reserve a window table so you and Libby will be able to see the mistletoe farm,” Jake said. “They have lots of lights turned on at this time of year so tourists can see the trees.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Libby staring at him, so he continued explaining that there weren’t mistletoe trees, but that the plant grew on other types of trees. “Mistletoe is like a baby monkey wrapped around a mama or daddy monkey,” he said, hoping he was using a description that she would understand.

“I just like mistletoe because everyone in town likes mistletoe,” she replied.

She didn’t say another word to him or to her mother for the remainder of the drive. Jake found it hard to divide his attention between the road and the beautiful woman next to him.

He thought he’d never tire of looking at her, and it wasn’t just because her features were arranged in delicate beauty, but rather because she radiated such warmth, because her eyes held a wonderment and curiosity about everything. He knew instinctively that she was a woman who embraced all that life had to offer.

When they arrived at the restaurant, built to appear like a rustic mountain resort, Libby reluctantly removed her tiara and the three of them headed for the front door.

Melody released a small gasp of pleasure as they stepped into the restaurant. Although the outside had looked like a well-kept sports lodge, the interior was sleek, with intimate tables lit with candlelight and pictures on the walls that turned photos of mistletoe into works of art.

“It’s all so beautiful,” Melody said softly as they were led to a table by a large window. Jake pulled out her chair for her and then did the same for Libby. When he was seated, the hostess handed him the wine list with the promise of a waitress arriving quickly.

He’d thought Melody couldn’t get lovelier, but as he gazed at her with the candlelight dancing in her eyes and on her features, he’d never seen anyone prettier.

“Any particular kind of wine you like?” he asked. He tore his gaze from her and instead looked blankly at the wine list.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of white wine, but I’m certainly no connoisseur. When I buy wine I always buy whatever is on sale.”

Jake turned his attention to Libby. “And what would you like to drink?”

Libby frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think they have root beer?”

At that moment the waitress arrived, and Jake ordered white wine for Melody, red for himself and a tall root beer for Libby. The waitress left behind menus, and for the next several minutes they talked about what they all wanted to order.

Once the orders were placed, Jake directed their attention out the window, where bare trees were lit with white lights, and nestled in the boughs were the green balls of mistletoe plants.

“Cool,” Libby said. “I always thought mistletoe grew on mistletoe trees.”

“It grows on all kinds of trees,” Jake replied. “Oaks and elms, even apple trees can host mistletoe plants.”

“I like my apples with cinnamon, not mistletoe,” Libby replied.

By the time their meals were delivered, the conversation was light and easy. Even Libby was animated as she explained to Jake the difference between a leotard and a tutu.

Jake was both electrified and surprised that having dinner with Melody and Libby felt so natural, so right. About halfway through the meal, he began to have trouble focusing on the tenderness of his steak and instead began to wonder if Melody’s kisses would be just as tender. He wondered if her skin was as soft and silky as it appeared in the candlelight. Somehow, some way, she’d lit a fire of desire in him, one that had caught him by surprise.

“Cowboy Jake?”

Libby’s impatient voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Yes, Libby?”

“I asked you twice if we could get dessert,” she exclaimed, and then smiled at him brightly. “Dessert might make me like you better.”

Jake laughed. Whether Libby liked him or not, he was growing quite fond of the little minx. “There’s no way we can end our meal without dessert.”

Libby gave him a little smile. “Then I’d like ice cream with chocolate syrup.”

They were a merry group when they finally left Mistletoe Mountain behind. Libby chattered like a magpie about the mistletoe farm and the facts that her spaghetti had been the best she’d ever tasted and her ice cream had been topped with just the right amount of chocolate syrup.

Melody was quieter, but cast him warm gazes that heated every inch of his body. If they were a real family they would now go home, tuck their daughter into bed and climb into their own bed and make love.

He tightened his grip around the steering wheel, forcing his thoughts away from the crazy fantasy. They weren’t his family, and he had no desire to make them so. He never again wanted anyone close enough to him that he would feel the way he had when he’d lost Stacy.

He could enjoy Libby, he could lust after Melody, but ultimately the very core of his heart was covered with a shield that he’d never allow anyone to pierce again.

* * *

“WOULD YOU LIKE to come in for some coffee?” Melody asked when they’d arrived back at her house. She was reluctant for the evening with him to end.

“Coffee sounds good,” he agreed, and entered the living room where a tall bare fake tree stood in the corner awaiting ornaments and tinsel. “You’ve decorated everything for Christmas except your tree.”

“It’s been tradition that we decorate it Christmas Eve especially for Santa’s arrival.” She turned to her daughter. “Libby, why don’t you go get ready for a bath?”

“Okay, and thank you, Cowboy Jake, for the dinner and stuff.” She skipped down the hallway.

“I think I’m making a little headway with her,” he said as Melody gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen.

Melody moved to the counter with the coffeepot as he sat in one of the chairs at the round oak table. “I’ve never seen her act the way she does with you with anyone else.” She poured water into the coffeemaker and shook her head. “And she won’t give me a clue why she doesn’t like you, although she’s certainly pleasant enough when she’s getting her way with you.”

She finished with the coffeemaker, and within seconds the scent of fresh brew filled the air. She had just poured their coffee and joined him at the table when Libby came back in the room. She was clad in a pink tutu and had on tap shoes.

“You were supposed to be getting ready for a bath,” Melody said.

“I wanted to show Cowboy Jake my pink tutu and show him my two most important dance steps,” Libby replied.

Jake raised a dark eyebrow, making him look like a dashing rake from a romance novel. “I definitely think showing me important dance steps is way more important than getting ready for a bath.”

Libby beamed him a smile that pleased Melody. She wanted Libby to like Jake as much as she did. And she so liked Jake. Every minute she spent with him only made her more excited for the possibilities of their relationship.

Somehow in the past two days she’d put aside her reluctance to get involved with another cowboy. She’d managed to rationalize to herself that Jake was a wonderful man who just happened to wear a cowboy hat.

“Okay,” Libby said, pulling Melody from her thoughts. “This is the step I do when I’m happy. It’s just a flap.” She executed the two-tone step around the table.

“That sounds like a happy tap,” Jake observed, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“And this is my mad step. It’s a flap ball change.” Once again she made her way around the table. The tap of her feet definitely sounded angry as she flapped hard and ball changed even harder.

She came to a halt at Jake’s side and leaned into him just a bit. “Now you know without me telling you if I’m happy or mad.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know,” Jake replied.

She leaned closer to him, pulled his head down and then cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered in his ear. When she was finished, she stepped back from him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said to her.

Libby looked back at Melody. “I know, I know. Bath time.” She flapped her way out of the kitchen and back down the hallway.

“What was that all about?” Melody asked Jake the moment Libby was gone.

“Ah, a gentlemen never tells secrets,” he replied. “All I can say is that it was nothing for you to worry about.”

Melody looked at him dubiously. “With that kid I never know what to expect.”

“She’s an absolute delight.”

Melody laughed. “Most of the time that’s true, but she can be as hardheaded as a mule at times.”

“A trait she picked up from her mother?”

“Perhaps,” Melody agreed with another laugh.

“I’m ready,” Libby’s voice drifted to the kitchen.

Melody stood. “If you’ll excuse me for just a minute, I need to set the water temperature for her bath.”

“Take as much time as you need,” he replied, looking utterly relaxed and as if he belonged at her table.

She hurried down the hallway to the bathroom, where Libby sat naked on the edge of the tub. “Bath and then bed,” Melody said as she turned on the faucets. “And what did you whisper to Jake before you left the kitchen?”

Libby yawned and then shrugged. “I just told him he’d better enjoy spending his time with you now ’cause after Santa comes you won’t have time for Cowboy Jake anymore.”

“And why is that?” Melody put in the drain stopper and felt the flow of water one last time.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret between me and Santa.” Libby crossed her arms over her chest, an indication that no matter how hard Melody pressed, Libby wasn’t going to give up her Santa secret.

Libby slid down into the filling tub. “Don’t overfill, and call me when you’re ready for a tuck in,” Melody said.

When she returned to the kitchen, Jake was still in place, his long legs sprawled beneath the table and his cup of coffee nearly gone.

“Sorry about that,” she said, and went directly to the coffee carafe and refilled his cup. “She told me what she whispered to you.” She rejoined him at the table. “I have no idea what she thinks Santa is bringing to me that will take up all my time.”

“Maybe one of those yarn kits where you have to pull little pieces of yarn through holes to make a rug,” he said. “Stacy got one of those at her wedding shower. It was to make a little rug of sunflowers to go in front of the kitchen sink. She worked on it for months and finally packed it up in a box half-finished.”

“So she was the crafty type?” Melody asked, curious about the woman who had captured his heart.

He smiled softly. “She never met a Popsicle stick she couldn’t turn into a birdhouse or a Christmas ornament.”

“I admire people who can make something useful out of everyday things,” Melody replied. “The closest I get to anything crafty is bedazzling outfits for my little dancers.”

“There’s room for both talents in this world.”

She took a sip of her coffee and drank in the vision of him. She set her mug back down. “And you—what’s your talent, Jake Hanson?”

“I raise quality cattle and I can hammer down a fence post fairly fast. I’m not bad at a two-step and I can cook a mean pot of chili. Stacy used to say I gave the foot massage from heaven.”

“Don’t underestimate the value of a good foot massage. That’s a dancer’s dream,” she replied.

“Now tell me about your dancing. Were you a little tutu-wearing tap dancer when you were Libby’s age?” he asked.

“Absolutely. My parents put me in dance classes when I was three, and in that first lesson I fell in love with it.”

“Did you ever dance professionally?”

She shook her head. “As much as I loved dancing, it was always in my plans to become a teacher. I wasn’t willing to make the kind of sacrifices professional dancers have to make. I wanted marriage and a family. I love dancing, but it isn’t the sum of my life.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to go all the way to Broadway to meet you,” he said.

She smiled, heated by the look in his eyes. “All you had to do was look out your window.” Her insides trembled slightly as she thought about how often she’d watched him from her kitchen window.

Had he noticed her when she’d been out in the yard? Had he been drawn to her as she’d been to him? Did he feel the attraction that crackled in the air at this very moment? Or was she the only one feeling a magnetic pull toward him?

“Mom, come tuck me in,” Libby yelled from her bedroom.

“And that sounds like my cue to call it a night,” Jake said. He got up from the table as she did, and she wanted to protest and tell him that the night was still young.

Instead she walked with him to the front door, pausing as he grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “It was a lovely evening, Jake.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. His eyes darkened as his gaze lingered on her face, and then on her lips. “Good night, Melody.”

He turned and walked out the door.

She blew out a breath of sheer frustration. Why was it every time she anticipated that he was about to kiss her, she saw the backside of him running out her door?

Maybe he didn’t feel the sparks. Maybe he really was just a lonely cowboy passing the painful Christmas season with his neighbor and her daughter.

CHAPTER FIVE

JAKE WAS BEGINNING to feel as if he suffered from some sort of mental illness. Last night he’d desperately wanted to kiss Melody, and he’d known by the smolder of her eyes that she’d wanted him to kiss her.

What had held him back? Guilt? Fear? Maybe a little bit of both. His feelings for Melody and Libby had spiraled out of his control in such a brief period of time, and yet he felt as if he’d known Melody for months.

He awoke to the sun shining brightly despite the forecast for a wintry storm in the next forty-eight hours. He was in the process of stacking wood for the fireplace on the front porch when an old red pickup truck pulled into his driveway.

Bill Johnson owned the ranch next to his on the opposite side from Melody. Bill was in his early seventies and a widower like Jake. He occasionally stopped by just to jaw about local happenings, but it had been a while since he’d visited.

“I see you’re getting ready for the storm,” Bill said when he’d climbed out of the driver seat.

“From what the forecast is saying, it’s supposed to move through fairly quickly, but you can’t always trust what the weathermen tell you. Coffee?”

“I wouldn’t mind a cup if you’ve got it.”

Jake smiled at the older man. “You should know after all these years that most mornings I’ve got it.” He took off his gloves and motioned for Bob to follow him inside.

Bob sat at the kitchen table and Jake filled two cups with coffee and then joined him. For the next few minutes the two men talked cattle and crops and everything that had to do with ranching.

“Although you wouldn’t know it by looking around here, I’ve heard a little gossip that you’re in the Christmas spirit again,” Bob said when they’d exhausted the ranch talk.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve just been showing Melody Martin and her daughter around town. It’s their first Christmas here in Mistletoe.”

Bob lifted his cup to his mouth and eyed Jake over the rim. He took a drink and then lowered his cup. “If I were a good-looking young man like you I’d be doing more than just showing that pretty lady and her cute kid around town.”

“Did you come over here to give me a lesson in romance?” Jake asked drily.

“No, but I did come over to remind you that this afternoon is the day I open up my pond area for the annual ice-skating party. As I recall, there was a time when you cut a fine figure on the ice.”

“I haven’t skated in years.” Not since Stacy’s death. His skates had been packed away along with all the Christmas decorations they’d owned and stored in boxes in the barn. He’d intended to donate it all to a local charity but had never actually gotten around to it.

“I wasn’t thinking so much about you. I thought maybe you’d like to bring Melody and her girl out, enjoy the festivities for the afternoon.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jake replied. He couldn’t help but think how much fun Libby would have. Bob always went all out for his yearly skating parties. There were blow-up Santas and giant reindeer, bushes decorated with the ever-present mistletoe and hot cocoa for the children and Mistletoe Toddies for the adults.

“I’d like to see you out there again.” Bob took another drink of his coffee. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor if you come.”

“How’s that?” Jake asked dubiously.

“You know there are always more kids than adults out there, and I’ve got my hands full. If you come and bring Melody and her daughter then that makes two more adults and only one more kid.” Bob looked at him innocently.

Jake narrowed his eyes as he stared at the man who had brought him meals after Stacy’s death, who had sat with him for hours without speaking, just being there as the worst of Jake’s pain had peaked.

“Are you trying to do some sort of matchmaking?” Jake asked.

Bob grinned and raised one of his gray eyebrows. “From the gossip I’ve heard, the match has already been made. I just stopped by to remind you about the skating party this afternoon, that’s all.” He finished his coffee and stood. “And now I’d better get back to my place. I’ve still got plenty to do before this wingding happens.”

Jake walked with him back outside and to his truck. Bob stopped at the door and turned to look at Jake. “So can I expect you all at my place later?”

Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do around here.”

Bob stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t close yourself off anymore, Jake. You’ve grieved long enough. Stacy wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life all alone.”

Jake nodded to acknowledge Bob’s words. Intellectually he knew that, but emotionally he wasn’t sure he was there yet. “Thanks for stopping by, Bob,” he finally replied as Bob got back into his truck. “You’ve been a good neighbor, a good friend.”

“That’s been easy. You’re a good man, Jake. You’ve just been lost for the past couple of years. I see a new spark in you, and if Melody and her daughter have put it there, then you should grab on to it.” Bob started his truck and pulled away.

Jake stared after him until the vehicle disappeared from view. He returned to stacking the firewood next to the front door and tried not to think about Bob’s yearly ice-skating party, tried desperately not to think about Melody and Libby.

He’d spent the first couple of years after Stacy’s death thinking only of her, and then he’d reached a place where he’d tried desperately not to think of her or any other woman. Now he was fighting Melody and Libby filling his every thought.

Were they baking cookies this morning? Filling their kitchen with the sweet homey scent of sugar and cinnamon? Or had they gone into town to continue to explore the charm of a Christmas-bedecked, mistletoe-laden little town?

At noon he moved to the window that gave him a view of Melody’s house, half hoping her car wouldn’t be parked in front of the garage, indicating that she was home.

It was there, and before he realized what he was doing his cell phone was in his hand. She answered on the second ring, her voice warm and with that musical lilt of life.

“Melody, it’s me.”

“Hi, Jake. I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh?” Warmth suffused him. When was the last time any woman had entertained any thoughts of him at all? “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“Great thoughts,” she replied. “I was thinking about our dinner last night and how much I enjoyed it.”

“I enjoyed it, too. Do you and Libby ice-skate?”

“Libby used to skate a little, but it’s been a long time. She’s probably quite rusty. Why? What’s up?”

He told her about the yearly skating event at Bob’s pond. “I thought maybe the two of you would enjoy the circus and might be interested in going with me.”

“Do you skate?” she asked.

“I used to cut a great figure eight on the ice, but like Libby, I’m probably rusty.”

“I don’t skate, but we’d love to go, and I’ll cheerlead from the sidelines.”

Arrangements were made for him to pick them up around three, and when he hung up he headed out to the barn to find his old ice skates.

He didn’t think about Stacy as he pulled down box after box of Christmas decorations in the hunt for the skates. He didn’t even think about Melody and Libby. He didn’t want to dwell in the past any longer, but he was also reluctant to look toward any future.

* * *

JAKE PULLED UP in front of the house at precisely three. It had been a busy couple of hours for Melody as she realized Libby’s skates were too small, requiring a fast trip into town to get a new pair.

Libby had been slightly disappointed that the sporting-goods store didn’t sell purple skates, but her spirit had only been dampened for a few minutes.

She raced ahead of Melody to the car before Jake could even get out of the driver’s-side door or Melody could close the door to the house.

“Cowboy Jake, I colored you a picture,” Libby said as she slid into the backseat and Melody got into the passenger seat. Libby handed her work of art over the seat to Jake. “And here, I even brought a baggie with two purple butterfly magnets in it so you can hang the picture on your refrigerator. That’s where Mom always puts my art stuff.”

Jake looked at the coloring of a Christmas tree, a fireplace with a blazing flame and three people. The man figure wore jeans, a shirt and a cowboy hat, the woman had on a red coat and the little girl was clad in purple. Melody had watched her daughter labor over the drawing and had been pleased that she wanted to give it to Jake.

“I’d be proud to hang this on my refrigerator door, Libby. You did such a good job.”

Libby beamed with pleasure, and Jake placed the picture and the baggie of magnets in his glove box and then smiled a greeting to Melody.

“I found out that my best friend, Megan, is coming later to the pond party with her parents,” Libby said.

“I imagine half the town will be there,” he replied. “You both look ready for a little outdoor activity.”

Melody had dressed for a cold afternoon with black leggings and a long pink sweater beneath her black coat. Pink gloves adored her hands and pink earmuffs covered her ears. Libby had prepared for a cold day as well, clad in blue jeans, a purple sweater, her coat, a hat and gloves. “I’ve got on long underwear,” she told Jake. “Mom is hoping it will protect my bottom when I fall, but I’m not going to fall, right, Cowboy Jake?”

Jake laughed. “I’m not sure that I’m not going to fall. It’s been a long time since I skated. I might do a cowboy slide clear across the pond on my bottom.”

* * *

LIBBY GIGGLED AND Melody smiled warmly at Jake. It was going to be another wonderful day, and she loved that Libby seemed to be opening herself up to Jake.

As am I, she thought. Despite the shortness of the time they’d known each other, Melody was precariously close to being heart and soul in love with Jake. It both scared her a little bit and excited her a lot.

By the time they reached Bob’s ranch, cars were parked not only in front of his house but also in the grassy area next to the house.

“Looks like there’s already a crowd here,” Melody said.

“Bob’s party usually brings out a crowd. The Mistletoe Bakery donates cookies, and the café donates Mistletoe Toddies and hot cocoa,” Jake explained.

They got out of his Jeep, and Jake grabbed his skates and a blanket and then pointed toward a pasture gate. “We’ve got a little walk from here. The pond is just over the hill.”

Libby skipped ahead of them, barely containing her excitement, and as she crested the hill ahead of them she stopped and gasped with obvious awe.

“Mom, hurry. You have to see everything,” she said as she clapped her hands together and jumped up and down.

Melody reached the top of the hill and her breath caught as she took in the view. The large frozen pond glittered in the afternoon sunshine. Benches were interspersed with barrels that radiated a fire source obviously intended for warmth.

But she knew that what had captured her daughter’s excitement was the path lined with candy-cane lights, the huge yard ornaments in the shape of everything Christmas and the reindeer that appeared to dance down the hillside. She guessed that they were constructed of wire forms and then covered with mistletoe.

“Bob has gone plumb Christmas crazy,” Jake said as they followed Libby down the candy-cane path. “Last time I was here he only had a couple of those yard blow-ups.”

“How long ago has that been?”

She didn’t miss the slight darkening of his eyes. “A little over five years ago,” he replied.

She realized that this was the first time he’d been here since his wife’s death, and the fact that he’d invited them here meant even more than it had before.

She wrapped her arm with his and smiled up at him. “Let’s go have some fun.”

“That’s the plan.” He smiled down at her, the darkness in his eyes gone.

They found an empty bench and sat. Immediately Libby and Jake began to put on their skates. When he had on his, he turned to look at her. “And why don’t you skate?”

“To be honest, because of my dancing I’ve always been a little afraid. I feel the same about skiing. The last thing I want is a broken bone that interferes with my livelihood. But I do make a great sideline cheerleader.”

By that time Libby had her skates on, but as Jake got up and stepped out on the ice, Libby remained seated next to Melody. “I’m afraid,” she said in a small voice. She grabbed hold of Melody’s arm. “I haven’t skated for a long, long time.”

Jake bent down in front of her. “It’s kind of like riding a bike, Libby. You never really forget how. It’s been a long, long time for me, too.”

He stood and took off across the ice, zigging and zagging around colorful-clad children and other adults. He looked amazing, both athletic yet graceful. Melody loved the way he wore his worn jeans tight and topped them with the suede jacket with the white wool lining, which made his shoulders appear even broader.

He made any other man on the pond look a bit smaller and insubstantial, a bit clumsy and so ordinary. Jake was definitely hot on ice.

He skated back to them and then once again squatted down in front of Libby and held out his hand. “Come on, Libby, come skate with me.”

She looked at his hand and then gazed up at her mother. Melody remained silent. She didn’t want to force Libby to do anything she didn’t want to do.

“Libby, you can trust me. As long as you hold my hand I promise you that I won’t let you fall,” Jake said.

Libby held his gaze for a long moment and then slipped her little hand into his and stood. Melody didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until it released on a sigh of relief.

Her heart expanded as she saw Jake and her daughter venture out onto the ice hand in hand. She’d not only grieved her own loss of Seth as a husband, but also grieved for Libby no longer having a daddy or a strong male presence in her life.

Melody knew the statistics of the failure of young girls to thrive without a positive male role model in their lives, and seeing the happiness on Libby’s face as she skated with Jake she was grateful for his presence as a neighbor...as a friend...and she was beginning to hope as something much more.

As Jake and Libby skated, several women who had children taking lessons at her studio stopped by to say hello to Melody. She chatted with people, cuddled under the blanket Jake had provided, and raised her hand to wave at the couple on the ice who held her heart.

After twenty minutes or so, Libby was on the other side of the pond with friends and Jake was skating back toward Melody and the bench. “She’s a natural,” he said, sitting down next to her. “By the time she met up with her friends, she was pretty much skating without me.”

“Thanks for helping her over her stage fright,” Melody replied. “Are you warm enough? I’ll be glad to share the blanket.”

He blew on his bare hands. “Thanks, I’d welcome it. I forgot to bring my gloves.”

She moved closer to him and arranged the blanket over the two of them, then grabbed one of his hands and grasped it firmly in her gloved hands. “Silly man to forget your gloves,” she said teasingly.

“Smart woman to share the blanket,” he replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

She settled against the back of the bench, acutely aware of every place their bodies touched beneath the blanket. Although she hadn’t been overly warm before, with his thigh and hip against hers, a flaming heat burned inside her.

He finally pulled his hand from hers and for a few minutes they watched the skaters on the ice. Melody kept an eye on her daughter, who had found Megan, and the two were on the ice together, barely moving around the edges of the pond.

“Tell me about your husband,” he said. “I’ve told you a little about Stacy, but you haven’t told me much about the man you were married to.”

She gazed at him and then looked back at the skaters. “Seth and I were high school sweethearts. We started going steady in seventh grade and never dated others. I had just graduated from college when my parents were killed in a small plane crash while they were on vacation. Seth was my rock through that horrible time, and after I’d grieved, he asked me to marry him.”

“So you were young when you married.”

“I suppose in this day and age twenty-two is considered young, but I didn’t feel young. I had no desire to sow any wild oats. All I really wanted was to be a wife and eventually a mother and own a dance studio.”

“It was a happy marriage?”

She paused a moment before replying, thinking back over her marriage. “Yes, for the most part it was a happy one. We only had one topic that we fought about. Seth was a rodeo cowboy. He rode bulls and broncs. I hated it. He followed the circuit so he was gone a lot and I was always afraid.” She shrugged. “And then my worst fear came true. He was at a rodeo riding a bronc and fell. The horse’s hooves came down on his head and he died instantly.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake replied, and the emotion behind the words let her know he wasn’t just saying an empty platitude.

“I tell myself that at least he died loving what he did. Seth lived for those adrenaline-filled moments on the back of a wild beast. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for Seth, but life goes on.”

For the next few minutes the two of them sat silently, watching the skaters. It was a comfortable silence. Melody was not warmed just by the blanket, but also by the very presence of the man seated next to her and her daughter’s laughter drifting across the pond.

She wanted to take this moment and wrap a bright red ribbon around it, top it with a sprig of mistletoe and hold it in her heart. It was a wonderful new memory that she would carry with her from this day forward.

Her gaze lingered on Libby and she frowned. “I’m a little bit worried about this Santa secret thing that Libby has,” she said. She turned and looked at Jake. “I’ve bought her nearly everything she asked for, but I don’t have any idea what special gift she’s expecting from Santa.”

“She hasn’t given you any clues?”

“None, and trust me, I’ve tried to get her to tell me. I just wish I knew so that I could see if I could get it for her. I don’t want her to lose her innocent belief and trust in Santa.”

“And what is it you want for Christmas, Melody?” Jake asked, his eyes glittering more silver than gray in the twilight of approaching night. She loved the way her name sounded falling from his lips.

She smiled and snuggled a little closer to him. “I already have what I wanted—happiness. Oh, I bought myself a bottle of perfume and a new sweater to wrap and put under the tree so that Libby wouldn’t think that Santa forgot me, but all I hoped for this Christmas was peace and happiness, and I’ve already found that here in Mistletoe.”

With you, she wanted to add. She wanted to tell him that he had become part of her happiness equation, but he hadn’t even kissed her yet. He might never kiss her the way she wanted him to, she told herself, although she was certain she’d seen desire for her in his eyes more than once.

It was after eight when they finally left the pond and headed back home. Jake was unusually quiet on the way to her house. Melody chalked it up to tiredness. He’d skated several more times throughout the evening and had also helped Bob carry more cookies and drinks from the house to the pond. Libby was quiet as well, obviously happy and exhausted.

They arrived at the house and Melody thanked him for yet another wonderful day. Libby got out of the backseat and ran to the front door to await Melody.

“I’m cooking a big roast and potatoes tomorrow,” she said, and unbuckled her seat belt. “Why don’t you come to dinner? I’d love to cook a nice meal for you.”

“Thanks for the offer,” he replied, a distance she’d never seen before in his eyes. “But I’ve got a lot of chores to take care of around the ranch, so I have to say no.”

“Oh, of course.” Melody’s heart plummeted, both with disappointment and with guilt. “We’ve been taking up too much of your time.”

“By my choice,” he said.

Melody opened the car door and stepped out. “The dinner invitation is a standing one. Just let me know when you’re available.”

He nodded. She began to walk toward the house but stopped as he rolled down the window and called out her name. “I hope you and Libby have a merry Christmas.”

Before she could reply he rolled up the window and drove away. She hurried toward the front porch where Libby waited for her to unlock the door. Her mind whirled with his words...words that indicated he didn’t intend to see or talk to them again before Christmas.

She unlocked the front door and Libby ran down the hall to her bedroom to get out of her extra clothes, while Melody closed the door and sank down on the sofa, Jake’s parting words still playing in her mind.

She hadn’t realized until now that the picture she’d had of Christmas Eve had been the three of them decorating the tree together. In her visions of the holiday, it had been three at the table eating a Christmas Day feast.

It felt as if something had ended before it really had a chance to begin. She felt as if she’d lost something she’d never really had, and she’d forgotten until now what the pain of loss felt like.

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