The Mistletoe Melody

“Depends on which ones you’re referring to,” Brad said, slowing again as the two lanes narrowed to one leading onto Main Street.

“Well, my beautiful new bride is now co-owner of the Brookhollow Inn, and their reservation system shows three rooms currently being held for Heartland Country Television—I know they’re not here to interview me.”

“That’s right, I’d heard Vic bought the old inn last year. And again, I’m so sorry I missed the wedding.” Luke’s high school sweetheart had returned to Brookhollow last Christmas after twelve years in New York City. Soon after, her and Luke had gotten married. Brad had been performing at a Labor Day Red Cross charity event in Oklahoma and hadn’t been able to make it to the September long-weekend wedding. He chose to believe he would have manned up and made it for his good friend’s wedding if his record contract hadn’t demanded otherwise.

“Believe me, your gift made up for it.” Luke laughed. “Victoria said the day at the Mandara Spa in the Bahamas was exactly the relaxation she’d needed. So, when do you arrive?”

“Just got here,” Brad said, taking in the festive sights lining both sides of Main Street. The lampposts, decorated in large, white snowflakes, were coming to life as dusk fell over the town, and the storefront windows on both sides of the street were illuminated with holiday displays. He waved as he passed Mr. O’Hanlon, owner of the horse stables in town, who was waiting near the town park’s entrance for the sleigh to arrive so he could fill it for the first ride of the evening. As Brad approached the corner of Main Street and Commerce Avenue and the bowling alley’s neon sign came into view, he couldn’t help but ask Luke, “Hey, does Melody still work at the alley?” The last he’d heard, his old friend was working several jobs, and bartending at the local hot spot was one of them. He prayed that was no longer the case, that things were getting easier for the Myers family. He’d respected Melody’s wishes and had ended his attempts to contact them, but time had yet to erase them from his thoughts.

“I think she might’ve quit last week—got a promotion with Play Hard Sports. At least that’s what Vic’s friend Heather said. Heather’s taking over Melody’s job at the bar.”

Relief flowed through Brad. Maybe Melody was doing okay. “I guess that store wasn’t such a bad idea, after all,” he teased his friend. The big-chain sporting-goods store had been the reason Victoria Mason had returned to Brookhollow the year before. She’d been working for an acquisition firm that was looking to buy out the town’s local store in order to open Play Hard. At the time, Luke had owned Legends Sporting Goods and had been reluctant to sell it—though his success rate in refusing Victoria anything she wanted had never been great.

“Yeah, yeah, like I haven’t heard that a million times in the last year. I can admit when I’m wrong. So how long are you in town?”

The million-dollar question. The recording was scheduled to be done in three days, and he’d planned to leave as soon as they finished. He knew in three days, he’d probably see a lot of old faces, but he hoped to avoid as many confrontations as possible. He doubted Patrick’s family and friends had forgiven him for the accident. Hell, he hadn’t forgiven himself. And he didn’t want his presence in town to ruin anyone’s holiday season. “Just a few days,” he answered.

“Well, I hope you weren’t planning to leave without playing a few rounds of pool.”

“Of course not.” He checked the time on the dash. It was after seven already. His niece and nephew would probably be in bed. One quick game with Luke might be just what he need before facing his family. He wasn’t sure what kind of welcome they’d give him after him being away for three years and now expecting them to go along with this publicity stunt. He swallowed yet another pang of guilt. Yep, he was definitely too chicken to go home just yet.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_ee52def6-8614-53fc-920b-ed52a9870637)

“‘NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.’ Can you believe he said that?” Melody asked, hanging a tangled set of white Christmas lights on the mirror behind the bar. If she’d had her way, they would have been in the trash can. But the bowling alley’s owner, Mr. Ericksen, who lived just outside of Brookhollow and rarely visited the bar, had of course decided to make an appearance earlier that day and had wondered why the festive decorations had yet to be hung. With the week she was having, Melody marveled at her restraint in not telling the older man where he could put his decorations.

“Kids are getting lippier all the time,” Heather said, pouring several beers for the over-sixty men’s bowling league, their only patrons on the slow Monday night. “I’m just so disappointed you didn’t get to finish that exam. It sounds like you were doing well. And you’re sure you have to wait three months before writing it again?”

“That’s what my boss’s assistant said when I called this afternoon, but I’m not done trying to convince them otherwise,” she said. She climbed down from the bar stool, only to notice the string of lights wasn’t straight. “Seriously, these lights are going to be the death of me.”

“Here, let me do it.” Heather moved Melody aside.

“Thanks,” Melody muttered. “I’m not exactly in a fa-la-la kind of mood.” After the events with David, she hadn’t had much time to think about the consequences of not finishing the exam that afternoon, but now she was desperate to come up with a way to save her family’s home. Christmas was the furthest thing from her mind. “I was hoping to be done working here this week.” That wouldn’t be happening now, and that meant fewer shifts for Heather, who’d mentioned her own savings were quickly depleting from her lack of steady work.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Heather said. “I’m not kicking you out.” She studied Melody for a long moment. “I know this may be a dumb question given the day you’ve had, but are you okay?”

Melody knew where the question was coming from. Normally, these small setbacks were things she could deal with. The challenges of raising the boys on her own or working hard and long to make ends meet were things she dealt with every day. Obviously, Heather could sense there was more she wasn’t disclosing. Melody hesitated, not sure whether to mention the foreclosure. The two women had grown close in the three months that Heather had been in Brookhollow, and Melody already counted her among her good friends. “Can I tell you something?”

“Without everyone in Brookhollow finding out by morning? Of course.”

“I got a foreclosure notice from the bank today.”

Heather’s face fell as she slid off the stool. “That’s awful, Mel. I’m so sorry... And now the promotion...”

Melody nodded. “Yeah, I’m in a tight spot.” She leaned against the bar. Exhausted and defeated, she barely had enough energy to hold herself up. “They’ve given me until January 1,” she said through a yawn. “And honestly, I have no idea what to do. I don’t think I can physically work any more hours, and with Christmas coming up...” In the past few years, when met with adversity, she’d always figured something out. But in this case, she wasn’t sure she could. Thirty-two-hundred dollars for the mortgage might as well have been a million. She could work twenty-four hours a day for the rest of December and still come up short.

“I know you may not like what I’m about to suggest, but have you considered asking your parents for a loan?”

She had considered it a hundred times that day. She’d also dismissed it a hundred times. The day she’d married a broke musician, she’d given up her right to her family’s financial support. Besides, her parents weren’t exactly rich. They just lived within their means. Going to them looking for a handout was out of the question. Hadn’t she been the one to say she could take care of herself and the boys? And after David’s suspension, the last thing she wanted was a lecture about her parenting skills. “I can’t.”

“They are your family. They are supposed to help you...to support you,” Heather insisted.

“They would if I asked, but I have my pride, you know,” Melody replied. “They didn’t approve of Patrick, or of us buying that old house. I can’t bear the thought of them saying, ‘I told you so.’ I’d have to admit to having made mistakes.”

“It wasn’t any mistake of your own that landed you in this situation, Mel,” Heather said.

No, it was Brad Monroe’s mistake that had caused her life to start spiraling out of control. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll figure this out... I do have a few options.” A few options she’d never been in a tough enough spot to consider until now.

She saw Luke and Victoria walk in, and noticed the buttons on Victoria’s coat were undone. The pretty blonde co-owner of the Brookhollow Inn was the definition of a blushing bride—though Melody suspected her new glow was from something else entirely. “When is Vic going to tell everyone she’s pregnant?” she whispered to Heather. She waved to the couple, her troubles momentarily put aside.

Heather laughed. “She won’t even admit it to me. I think she’s terrified to say it out loud.”

“Well, she can only hide it for so long,” Melody said as Victoria approached her, a worried frown on her face.

Luke waited by the door. He opened it every few seconds to glance outside.

“Hey, Victoria. What’s up with him?” Melody nodded toward Luke.

“Oh, nothing. We just stopped in to say hi, but we’re probably not going to stay. I, uh, thought you were done here at the bar.” Victoria kept glancing nervously toward the door.

“That wasn’t a sure thing...”

“She didn’t trust me to work here alone just yet,” Heather said, coming to her rescue. “You okay, Vic?”

The front door opened again, and Victoria didn’t have time to answer, as all three women turned toward it.

Luke’s eyes widened and Heather gaped, but Melody stood frozen, calmly fighting her desire to escape the room as soon as Brad Monroe entered it, dusting snowflakes from his blond hair. He turned toward the bar, and when his gaze met hers, it looked panicked. What was Brad Monroe doing in Brookhollow? He hadn’t come home for Christmas or for anything else, much to her relief, in three years. Now here he was, on one of her worst days, standing right in front of her, bringing the day down to a whole new level of awful.

No one moved. No one spoke for a long moment.

Heather broke the silence. “He shouldn’t be here,” she hissed to Victoria.

“I know. We’re leaving.” She looked at Melody. “We didn’t expect you to be here, Mel.” Her tone was apologetic.

Tearing her gaze from Brad’s and remembering to breathe, Melody said, “No, it’s okay, really. Stay.” The words were said through clenched teeth. She picked up three menus and slapped them onto the counter in front of Victoria. The bar was a public place, after all. Brookhollow was Brad’s hometown—this had been bound to happen someday. She’d have preferred it not be today, but she refused to give Brad Monroe the satisfaction of seeing her become frazzled by his sudden appearance.

“No, Mel, we don’t want to upset you...” Victoria stammered. The men were still standing near the door.

Mel forced a cold smile. “Do I look upset? Please stay.”

Victoria hesitated before shaking her head. “Okay, I guess we will.”

Melody watched as Victoria approached the men, said something and practically dragged them to a booth in the corner. She slid her damp palms down her black apron and steadied her shaky knees as she went around the side of the bar.

“Where are you going?” Heather blocked her path.

“To take their order.”

“No way. I can’t believe you even let him stay. And that’s my table, anyway, so get back behind the bar.