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

Though she had a hundred things to—including finishing the paint job on the backdrop for the little stage they had rigged up—she sat down at the table near the refreshment booth where they were playing.

“You did so well today. All of you.”

“Thanks,” Louisa said. “It’s really fun. I hope we do it again next year.”

Not unless Hope found some other sucker to be in charge, she thought again.

“I’ve had lots of fun, too,” Olivia said. “Thanks for inviting me to do it.”

“You’re very welcome. How are things going at your great-grandmother’s house?”

As soon as she asked the question, she wished she hadn’t. It sounded entirely too much as if she was snooping. She might as well have come out and asked when they were leaving.

“Good, I guess. We have two more rooms to do. My dad said we’ll probably go back to California between Christmas and New Year’s.”

She tried to ignore the sharp pang in her chest. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to be back in your own house.”

“You’re lucky! You can go swimming in the ocean,” Louisa said.

“Sometimes. Mostly, it’s too cold, except in summer.”

“And you can go to Disneyland whenever you want,” Joey added.

“No, I can’t,” she protested. “I have to go to school and stuff.”

They talked more about the differences between their respective homes. Olivia was quite envious that they could ride horses and go sledding all winter long while the other children thought California was only palm trees and beaches.

While the seasonal staff of The Christmas Ranch started arriving and getting ready for the busiest day of their season, the children continued their game, and Celeste sat at the table next to them working on a drawing for a complicated part of the stage she was hoping Rafe could help her finish later that day.

Finally, about forty-five minutes after practice ended, Flynn burst through the front doors looking harried. “Sorry I’m late. I was taking a load of things to the county landfill and it took longer than I expected.”

“Don’t even worry about it. The kids have been enjoying themselves. Haven’t you?”

“Yep,” Barrett said. “’Cause I won Go Fish three times and Joey and Olivia both won once. Louisa didn’t win any.”

“Next time, watch out,” his sister declared.

Flynn smiled at the girl, that full-fledged charming smile Celeste remembered from when he was a teenager. She had to swallow hard and force herself to look away, wondering why it suddenly felt so warm in the lodge.

“How was practice?” he asked.

“Good,” she answered. “Great, actually. Everyone worked so hard.”

“I can’t wait for you to see the show, Dad,” Olivia declared. “It’s going to be so good. Celeste says all the ladies will cry.”

He looked vaguely alarmed. “Is that right? Will I cry, too? I’d better bring a big hankie, just in case.”

She giggled hard, then in the funny way kids have, she looked at Barrett and Louisa and something in their expressions made her laugh even harder, until all three were busting up. Their laughter was infectious and Celeste couldn’t help smiling.

* * *

Flynn gazed at the three children, certain he was witnessing a miracle.

This was really his daughter, looking bright and animated and...happy.

This was the daughter he remembered, this girl who found humor in the silliest things, who was curious about the world around her and loved talking with people. He’d feared she was gone forever, stolen by a troubled man who had taken so much else from her.

Seeing her sitting at a table in the St. Nicholas Lodge, laughing with Celeste and her niece and nephew, he wanted to hug all three of the children. Even more, he wanted to kiss Celeste right on that delicious-looking mouth of hers that had haunted his dreams for days.

Her smiling gaze met his and a wave of tenderness washed over him. She had done this. He didn’t know how. She had seen a sad, wounded girl and had worked some kind of Sparkle magic on her to coax out the sweet and loving girl Olivia used to be.

Her smile slid away and he realized he was staring. He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to look away.

His gaze landed on a piece of paper with what looked like a complicated drawing. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

She looked embarrassed. “I’m so not an artist, Hope is. I’m just trying to work up a sketch I can show Rafe. I’m trying to figure out how to build wings on the side of the stage so the children have somewhere to wait offstage. There’s no time to sew curtains. I just need some sort of screen to hide them from view.

He studied her sketch, then took the paper from her and made a few quick changes. “That shouldn’t be hard,” he said. “You just have to build a frame out of two-by-fours and then use something lightweight like particle board for your screen. If it’s hinged and connected there, it should be solid and also portable enough that you can store it somewhere when you’re not using it.”

She studied the drawing. “Wow. That’s genius! You know, I think that just might work. Can you just write down what supplies you think it might need? Rafe will be back from Jackson Hole shortly, and I can put him to work on it if he has time.”

He glanced at the stage, then at his daughter, still smiling as she played cards with the other two children. Though he knew he would probably regret it—and he certainly had plenty of things still to take care of at Charlotte’s house—he spoke quickly before he could change his mind.

“If you’ve got some tools I can use and the two-by-fours, I can probably get the frame for it done in no time.”

She stared at him, green eyes wide behind those sexy glasses she wore. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “I started out in carpentry. It’s kind of what I do. This shouldn’t be hard at all—as long as Olivia doesn’t mind hanging around a little longer.”

“Yay!” Louisa exclaimed. “She can come to the house and decorate the sugar cookies we made last night with Aunt Celeste while our mom was Christmas shopping.”

Olivia looked suitably intrigued. “I’ve never decorated sugar cookies.”

“Never?” Celeste exclaimed. She looked surprised enough that Flynn felt a pinch of guilt. Apparently this was another area where he had failed his daughter.

Olivia shook her head. “Is it hard?”

“No way,” Louisa answered. “It’s easy and super, super fun. You can decorate the cookies any way you want. There’s no right or wrong. You can use sparkly sugar or M&M’s or frosting or whatever you want.”

“The best part is, when you mess it up, you get to eat your mistakes,” Barrett added. “Nobody even cares. I mess up a lot.”

Olivia snickered and Flynn had a feeling she would be messing up plenty, too. What was it with all these Christmas traditions that filled kids with more sugar when they least needed another reason to be excited?

He had struck out miserably when it came to Christmas traditions this year. At least they had the little Christmas tree at his grandmother’s house for decoration, but that was about it.

Olivia had insisted she hoped Santa Claus wouldn’t come that year, but he had disregarded her wishes and bought several things online for her. A few other presents would be waiting back in California, sort of a delayed holiday, simply because the new bike her physical therapist suggested was too big for the journey here in his SUV.

Next year would be different, he told himself. By this time next year they would be established in a routine back in California. They could hang stockings and put up a tree of their own and decorate all the sugar cookies she wanted, even if he had to order ready-made plain cookies from his favorite bakery.