Christmas Wish Come True: All I Want For Christmas / Dreaming of a White Wedding / Christmas Every Day. Gina Rochelle
eleven-thirty, all of the buses and students had departed. Except Tyler. He seemed oblivious to his uncle’s tardiness. But Isabella was incensed over Jordan Butler’s apparent disregard for his nephew’s needs, let alone his feelings. She wondered how Tyler’s parents had come to entrust their child to him. And why did Tyler’s uncle agree to look after the boy if he didn’t have time for him?
Isabella checked with the office. They’d called Jordan Butler at her request after the initial announcement was made. They assured her he was on his way. Isabella got his number from the secretary, and even tried to call him a few times from her cell. But each time, his phone went directly to voice mail. She noted the gathering snow on the ground below, then looked over at her quiet student. The only sounds in the room were the nervous tapping of her foot, and the wind howling outside the glass windows. She decided to save time and put their coats on.
After another ten minutes, Isabella rationalized that Jordan Butler must be getting close to the school. She gathered her briefcase and bag of leftover goodies. Then, as an afterthought, collected the Dear Santa letters and stuffed them into her purse. Hoping to bring a smile to young Tyler’s sad face, she said brightly, “I’d better get these sent off today, so Santa will receive them in plenty of time.” He didn’t smile, but there was a slight sparkle in his eye as Isabella led him into the hallway. They made their way down to the entrance of the school. If Jordan Butler didn’t show up soon, Isabella would have to take her student to the office to wait for him.
Tyler stared outside for a moment, then looked up at her. “Can we go out and catch snowflakes on our tongues?”
Isabella hesitated at first, then decided it might lighten his mood, and hers, to have a little fun. “Okay, Tyler. But I’ll have to put my bags in my car first.”
They went outside and headed to the parking lot. There were only a few cars left at the school, belonging to the office personnel still at work. She held Tyler’s hand as they walked hurriedly to her car. As she started to unlock the driver’s side door, the purr of an engine pulled up behind them. Relieved, she turned to stare into the unsmiling face of Jordan Butler as he got out of his large black truck.
“Where are you taking my nephew?”
He was angry, but Isabella gave him credit for hiding it in front of Tyler. Equally upset with him – not only for his late arrival, but also for thinking she was some sort of kidnapper – she still managed to remain calm.
“I’m not taking him anywhere…” she began. “I was just putting my things in my car. I tried to call you several times…” She offered no apology, only lifted her chin defiantly, waiting for his response.
It seemed like minutes passed – enough time for Isabella to observe the large snowflakes landing in Jordan Butler’s dark hair, and absently wanting to brush them away with her fingers. Enough time for her to completely forget why she’d been infuriated with him in the first place, as she met the shimmering gaze of his electric eyes. Tyler’s small voice broke into their silence.
“We’re gonna catch snow on our tongues.”
Jordan looked at his nephew, this time with relief and a touch of amusement, before turning his focus back to Isabella. “You’re his teacher – I should have known he was safe with you,” he conceded.
“Of course he is,” she began, then lowered her voice. “As his new teacher…I’d like to talk to you about his…situation. When it’s convenient.”
Jordan’s expression was mysterious, and cooler than the wind that blew around them. He smiled politely, but only nodded his agreement to her request. He bent down and lifted the small boy in his arms.
“Thank you for looking after my nephew, Miss Stevens. I apologize for being late, but an accident was slowing traffic on the Interstate. I couldn’t get a signal on my cell to call the school.” He hesitated, waiting for her to speak.
Isabella found her voice. “My apologies as well. I should have realized it was something like that.”
Jordan’s smile was genuine, and Isabella felt herself go warm all over as Tyler chimed in, “Promise you won’t forget to mail the letters, Miss Stevens.”
“I won’t forget, Tyler,” she reassured him, a bit shakily. “I promise.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Miss Stevens,” Jordan said.
Isabella stood there breathless, watching as Jordan first lifted Tyler into the truck, then got in the driver’s side and drove off into the heavy snowfall.
***
Isabella’s Thanksgiving dinner would consist of baked turkey breast, instant mashed potatoes and gravy, canned green beans, and dinner rolls. Followed by a piece of apple pie, topped with vanilla ice cream, for dessert. Then she’d finish the evening with a glass of Pinot Noir while watching her favorite chick flick, The Goodbye Girl, on the classic movie channel.
All by herself.
She hurried down the grocery aisle, making her way to the checkout counter. She was only a couple of miles from the hotel, but the sky was becoming so dark, it could easily have been five o’clock in the afternoon instead of one p.m. As the cashier totaled her groceries, Isabella reached into her pocketbook for her wallet. The stack of letters the class had written, hers and Tyler’s on top, were tucked inside. She was disappointed she hadn’t mailed them first, when Tyler had reminded her to do so such a short time ago. She rationalized that the weather had distracted her. But in reality, it was Tyler’s uncle who had occupied most of her thoughts in the last hour or so. The questions swirled in her head as she shopped.
Why was Jordan Butler so abrupt? Why was Tyler staying with him? Why was she still thinking about the snowflakes in his hair? Why the hell was she wondering any of this at all?
After paying for her items, Isabella looked out at the storm, concerned about backtracking to the post office downtown. She shook her head and glanced at the clerk, her guilty conscience propelling her to ask, “Do you know of a box nearby, specifically designated by the post office for ‘Santa’ mail?” Isabella had heard of the program on the evening news, where postal employees and volunteers from charitable organizations would collect letters to Santa from the holiday boxes and, in some cases, make the children’s wishes come true.
The clerk chewed her gum and rolled her eyes. “Oh,” she finally said, as if the thought suddenly occurred to her. “I think there’s a Santa box up on Reindeer Ridge, off Highway 36, about ten minutes north of here. At the Toy Shop. It just opened this week for the holiday season. But you’ll have to hurry. I’m sure they’ll be closing soon, with the weather.”
Isabella thanked the young girl and hurried to her car, intent on keeping her promise to Tyler. The roads were still manageable and, if the clerk was right, Isabella would save time and miles by going up to Reindeer Ridge to drop off the letters.
Minutes later, she slowly navigated the mountain road, trying not to think about the dangers, focusing instead on her mission. But as the path narrowed with the rapid snow accumulation, Isabella began to think she should stop, turn around. She hadn’t passed anyone on the drive up, and she had the sinking feeling that she was already too late.
She mentally scolded herself again, then saw twinkling lights through the trees about half a mile up. Yes! She would deliver the letters, then head for home before the roads became too icy.
Isabella inched her car toward the Christmas lights. The Toy Shop came into view as she got closer. Festive Christmas decorations adorned the painted glass windows of the lodge-style structure. Near the entrance, a huge lighted Christmas tree captured her attention. Through the heavy snowfall, the enchanting scene beckoned. But, as Isabella’s eyes scanned for human activity, her gaze came to rest on the red CLOSED sign in the front window. Her hopes sank.
The letters would have to wait.
Isabella softly cursed as she reversed the car. She steered the tires around, then felt a sudden bump. Looking