A Mistletoe Vow: A Cold Creek Christmas Story / Falling for Mr December / A Husband for the Holidays

“It was nice to meet you,” Ava said politely. “I hope we see you at rehearsal tomorrow.”

His daughter needed friends, he thought again. They had always been important to her. Before everything happened, she always had been begging to have a friend over to use the pool or watch a movie.

Since her release from the hospital, she hadn’t been interested in doing the normal things a seven-year-old girl would do. Ava Caldwell was older than his daughter, maybe eleven or twelve, but she seemed very kind. Maybe Celeste knew of some other likely candidates Olivia could hang out with while they were in town.

If it helped her interact with children around her age, would the Christmas program really be that bad?

Being a parent was a tough enough gig under the best of circumstances. Throw in the kind of trauma his daughter had endured and he felt as though he was foundering, trying to stay afloat in thirty-foot swells.

The Caldwells waved and headed for their table, and Flynn returned to his delicious pizza. The people at the Rocky Mountain Pizza Company knew what they were doing when it came to pie, he had to admit. Olivia, he saw, ate two pieces and even some of the family-style tossed salad, which seemed something of a record for her, given her poor appetite these days.

While they ate, they talked about Christmas and books and a couple of movies they had all seen. Three different times, people who came into the restaurant stopped at their booth to say hello to Celeste.

Olivia seemed to find that of great interest. “Do you know everybody who lives here?” she finally asked.

Celeste laughed, a light, musical sound. “Not even close, though it feels like it sometimes. When you live in a place for a long time you get to know lots of people. I’ve been in Pine Gulch since I was eleven—except for the years I was away in Boise and Seattle for school.”

“Where did you live before that?” he asked, suddenly intensely curious about her.

He was even more curious when her cheerful features seemed to go still and closed. She didn’t say anything for several long seconds, so long that he wasn’t sure she was going to answer him at all.

“It didn’t seem like a tough question,” he said mildly.

“For you, maybe,” she retorted. “You grew up in California with your mother after your parents divorced, and spent your summers here with Charlotte, right?”

How did she know that? he wondered. He only remembered meeting her a few times back when he would come to visit and didn’t remember ever sharing that information with her. Maybe Charlotte had told her.

He gave her a close look but she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

“That’s right,” he answered. “And you?”

“No one specific place,” she finally answered. “I lived all over the globe, if you want the truth. I was born in a hut in Ghana, and before I was eleven, I lived in about two dozen countries. My parents were missionaries who started health clinics in underserved places of the world. Before I came to Pine Gulch, we were living in Colombia.”

Some kind of vague, unsettling memory poked at him, a whisper he had once heard about Celeste and her sisters. Something to do with a kidnapping, with her parents.

He couldn’t put his finger on the details. What was it? Was that the reason for those secrets in her eyes, for the pain he sensed there?

He opened his mouth to ask her, but before he could a loud clatter echoed through the place as a server busing the table next to them dropped the bin of dishes.

At the sudden, unexpected sound, Olivia gave one terrified gasp and slid from her seat under the table.

Damn, he hated these moments when her PTSD took over. They left him both furious and profoundly sad. He took a breath and leaned down to talk her through it, but Celeste beat him to it. She reached down and gave Olivia’s shoulder a comforting squeeze beneath the table.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It was only dishes. That’s all. I know you were startled, but you’re safe, sweetheart.”

Olivia was making little whimpering noises that broke his heart all over again.

“I don’t like loud noises,” she said.

“Especially when you don’t expect them and don’t have time to prepare. Those are the worst, right?”

To his shock, Celeste spoke with a tone of experience. He gazed at her, trying to remember again what he knew about her and her sisters.

“They are,” Olivia said. Though she still sounded upset, he could no longer hear the blind panic in her voice.

“Why don’t you come up and finish your pizza? If you want, I can ask Lucy about fixing you one of their best desserts. It’s a big gooey chocolate-chip cookie they bake in the wood-fired oven and top with hand-churned ice cream. I think you’ll love it. I know it’s my favorite thing to eat when I’ve been startled or upset about something.”

After another moment, Olivia peeked her head out from under the booth. “They’re not going to make that sound again, are they?”

“I don’t think so. That was an accident.”

“I hope they don’t have another accident,” she answered in a small voice.

“If they do, your dad and I are right here to make sure nothing hurts you.”

That seemed enough to satisfy her. His daughter slid back onto the seat. She still had a wild look in her eyes, and he noticed she edged closer to him and constantly looked toward Celeste for reassurance while they finished their pizza.

He didn’t miss the protective expression Celeste wore in return, an expression that turned his insides just as gooey as that chocolate-chip cookie she was talking about.

He couldn’t let himself develop feelings for this woman, no matter how amazing she was with his child, he reminded himself.

He had to focus on his daughter right now. She was the only thing that mattered.

Chapter Six (#u2f75bc29-2f75-5a37-b22e-990bf425a700)

“Is she asleep?” Celeste whispered an hour later, when they made the turn onto Cold Creek Road.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and could see Olivia curled into the corner, her eyes closed and her cheek resting on her hand.

“Looks like it.” He pitched his voice low. “She’s always been a kid who can sleep anywhere, especially when she’s had a long day. Driving in the car has always knocked her right out. When she was going through the terrible twos and used to fight going to bed, I would strap her in her car seat and drive her around the block a few times. She always ran so hard that when she finally stopped, she would drop like a rock by the time we hit the first corner.”

“Did she stay asleep?”

“Yeah. That was the amazing part. She never seemed to mind when I unstrapped her from her car seat and carried her into the house to her bed. I was kind of sorry when she outgrew that phase and started sleeping in her own bed without a fuss.”

Beside him, he caught a flash of white in the darkness as Celeste smiled a little. “I imagine she was an adorable toddler.”

“Oh, she was. Scary smart and curious about everything.”

He felt a sharp pang in his heart when he thought again about how much she had changed, how she had become so fearful and hesitant. Would the old Olivia ever return, or was this their new version of normal?

“I wish you could have known her three months ago. Before.”

Celeste reached out to touch his arm briefly, like a little bird landing on a branch for only a moment before fluttering away again.

“She’s a wonderful girl, Flynn. A terrible thing happened to her, yes, but she’s already demonstrated what a survivor she is. Trust me. She’ll get through it in time. She may always have those dark memories—nothing can take them away completely—but eventually she’ll learn how to replace them with happier thoughts.”

He glanced over at her. “Is that how you coped?”