Rescued by the Magic Of Christmas

The familiar feminine voice wrapped around him like an electric blanket set on high. Soft, warm, perfect. He reminded himself that Carly Bishop’s heart belonged to Iain.

But that didn’t mean Jake couldn’t look and appreciate.

Even with her long, blond hair tucked inside a green ski cap, her cheeks flushed from the freezing temperatures and her eyes red and swollen from crying, she was the best thing he’d seen this morning.

“Carly.” He noticed a photographer watching them. The press would sell their firstborn to get an exclusive interview with the fiancée and sister of the missing climbers. “Get inside. It’s too cold out here.”

She shoved her gloved hands in the pockets of her orange down jacket, which was actually one of Iain’s. Her breath hung on the air. “Colder up on the mountain.”

Where Iain and Nick were. His eyes met hers in unspoken understanding.

Jake blinked against the biting mist, against the sting in his eyes. “We’re heading up to find them.”

She inhaled sharply. “Th-they said the search was on hold until conditions improved.”

“The conditions are good enough for us.”

“Thank you so much.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “You have no idea what this means to our family and me.”

Jake knew. He was closer to the Bishops than his own parents. That was one reason he’d tried to never treat Carly as anything other than his best friend’s kid sister. Well, that, and the age difference. She was twenty-two, four years younger than him. That difference in age meant nothing now, but the gap had been huge when they were teenagers.

Though right now she looked more like a kid than ever. Young and vulnerable. Jake wanted to say something to comfort her, but he hadn’t a clue where to start.

“I know it’s rough up there and what you’re up against. But please, Jacob, do whatever …everything you can.” Carly’s voice cracked. “T-tomorrow is…”

December twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve. Her and Iain’s wedding day.

Jake had the wedding invitation on his fridge and their gift under his Christmas tree. Tears streamed unchecked down her face. His already-aching heart constricted.

“I promise you, Carly.” He wiped the tears off her cheeks with his gloved hand. He didn’t dare allow himself to do more, and his caution had nothing to do with the photographer watching them. “I’ll find Nick and Iain. Today.”

Or Jake wasn’t coming back down.

CHAPTER ONE

AS SNOW FLURRIES fell from the gray sky, Carly Bishop stared at the charming log house surrounded by towering fir trees and decorated with strands of white icicle lights. A lopsided four-foot-tall snowman, complete with carrot nose, stood in the front yard. A single electric candle shone through a wood-paned window, the flickering flame-shaped bulb a welcoming light.

Carly walked along the snow-dusted path, dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her. A few feet from the porch she noticed a green wreath tied with a red velvet bow hanging from a brass holder on the front door. The scent of pine was sharp in the air. The same way it had been…

Her breath caught in her throat.

The house, the wreath, the candle, the snowman. It was as if time had stopped, as if the last six years had simply been a bad dream. Any second, Carly expected Nick to fling open the front door wearing a Santa hat, and greet her with a jolly ho-ho-ho. And Iain…

Iain.

She closed her eyes, fighting an onslaught of unwelcome memories.

I can’t believe you’re going climbing two days before our wedding. Why don’t you just admit it, Iain? You love climbing more than you love me.

She’d wanted to forget. The argument and tears before and as he’d left to climb. The thoughts about his selfish behavior while he’d been climbing and dying. The grief and guilt after his body and Nick’s had been found.

Carly thought she had forgotten. Put the past behind her. Moved on. She forced herself to breathe.

Coming back had been a mistake.

She should have stayed in Philadelphia, where she’d made a new life for herself, far away from the shadow of Mount Hood and all the mountain had stolen from her. If only staying away had been an option, but her brother’s widow, Hannah, was expecting a new baby and needed help with her two children.

So here Carly was. Ready to be an aunt extraordinaire for her niece and nephew. For better or, most likely, worse.

Two weeks. All she had to do was survive the next two weeks, including December twenty-fourth, the twenty-fifth and New Year’s Eve. How hard could that be? Given she hadn’t celebrated the holidays in years, she didn’t want to know the answer.

Carly tightened her grip on the suitcase handle and climbed the steps to the front porch. With a tentative hand, she reached for the doorknob then remembered this was no longer her brother’s house. She pressed the doorbell and waited.

The doorknob jiggled.

Straightening, Carly forced a smile. Years of working with customers had taught her how to put on a happy face no matter how she felt inside.

The door cracked open.

“Welcome back, Carly,” a male voice greeted her warmly.

She expected to see Hannah’s husband of two years, Garrett Willingham, but the man standing in the doorway looked nothing like the clean-cut, non-risk-taking, business-suit-wearing certified public accountant. This guy was too rugged, too fit, too…familiar.

“Jacob Porter.” Over six feet tall with brown hair that fell past his collar, he still had piercing blue eyes, a killer smile and a hot, hard body that had made the girls, herself included, swoon back in high school. But those things had only been made better with age. Her pulse kicked up a notch. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” His grin widened, the same way it had whenever he and Nick teased her about something. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry…” Simply thinking the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Seasons greetings. Where’s Hannah?”

“At a doctor’s appointment,” Jacob explained. “Garrett drove her. She didn’t know if they’d be home before you arrived or the school bus dropped Kendall and Austin off so they asked me to come over.”

Carly noticed Jacob’s clothes—a light blue button-down oxford shirt, khaki pants and brown leather shoes. A bit more stylish than the T-shirts, jeans or shorts and sneakers she remembered him wearing. He must have been at work.

“Thank you.” Though she wasn’t surprised. Jacob had always gone out of his way for them, a surrogate everything to what remained of the Bishop family. He’d found her the job in Philadelphia. He’d taught Nick’s two kids to ski and fish. He’d even introduced Hannah to Garrett.

“Hurry inside before you get too cold.” Jacob reached for Carly’s suitcase. His hand—big, calloused and warm—brushed hers. The accidental contact startled her, and she jerked her hand away. “You city girls aren’t used to the temperatures up here.”

Forget the cold. She wasn’t used to her response to his touch. Carly couldn’t remember the last time a man had had that effect on her. “It gets cold in Philadelphia, too.”

As she stepped into the house, heat surrounded her, cocooning her with the inviting comforts of home. She glanced around, noticing all the nice homey touches. Ones missing from her apartment.

“You look the same,” he said.

He looked better. She glanced around. “So does this place.”

And that somehow made everything…worse.

A fire blazed and crackled in the fireplace. The way it had that horrible, dark Christmas morning when a teary-eyed Hannah had told the kids to unwrap their gifts from Santa.