A Mistletoe Christmas. Carla Cassidy
but it isn’t the sum of my life.”
“I’m glad I didn’t have to go all the way to Broadway to meet you,” he said.
She smiled, heated by the look in his eyes. “All you had to do was look out your window.” Her insides trembled slightly as she thought about how often she’d watched him from her kitchen window.
Had he noticed her when she’d been out in the yard? Had he been drawn to her as she’d been to him? Did he feel the attraction that crackled in the air at this very moment? Or was she the only one feeling a magnetic pull toward him?
“Mom, come tuck me in,” Libby yelled from her bedroom.
“And that sounds like my cue to call it a night,” Jake said. He got up from the table as she did, and she wanted to protest and tell him that the night was still young.
Instead she walked with him to the front door, pausing as he grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “It was a lovely evening, Jake.”
“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. His eyes darkened as his gaze lingered on her face, and then on her lips. “Good night, Melody.”
He turned and walked out the door.
She blew out a breath of sheer frustration. Why was it every time she anticipated that he was about to kiss her, she saw the backside of him running out her door?
Maybe he didn’t feel the sparks. Maybe he really was just a lonely cowboy passing the painful Christmas season with his neighbor and her daughter.
JAKE WAS BEGINNING to feel as if he suffered from some sort of mental illness. Last night he’d desperately wanted to kiss Melody, and he’d known by the smolder of her eyes that she’d wanted him to kiss her.
What had held him back? Guilt? Fear? Maybe a little bit of both. His feelings for Melody and Libby had spiraled out of his control in such a brief period of time, and yet he felt as if he’d known Melody for months.
He awoke to the sun shining brightly despite the forecast for a wintry storm in the next forty-eight hours. He was in the process of stacking wood for the fireplace on the front porch when an old red pickup truck pulled into his driveway.
Bill Johnson owned the ranch next to his on the opposite side from Melody. Bill was in his early seventies and a widower like Jake. He occasionally stopped by just to jaw about local happenings, but it had been a while since he’d visited.
“I see you’re getting ready for the storm,” Bill said when he’d climbed out of the driver seat.
“From what the forecast is saying, it’s supposed to move through fairly quickly, but you can’t always trust what the weathermen tell you. Coffee?”
“I wouldn’t mind a cup if you’ve got it.”
Jake smiled at the older man. “You should know after all these years that most mornings I’ve got it.” He took off his gloves and motioned for Bob to follow him inside.
Bob sat at the kitchen table and Jake filled two cups with coffee and then joined him. For the next few minutes the two men talked cattle and crops and everything that had to do with ranching.
“Although you wouldn’t know it by looking around here, I’ve heard a little gossip that you’re in the Christmas spirit again,” Bob said when they’d exhausted the ranch talk.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve just been showing Melody Martin and her daughter around town. It’s their first Christmas here in Mistletoe.”
Bob lifted his cup to his mouth and eyed Jake over the rim. He took a drink and then lowered his cup. “If I were a good-looking young man like you I’d be doing more than just showing that pretty lady and her cute kid around town.”
“Did you come over here to give me a lesson in romance?” Jake asked drily.
“No, but I did come over to remind you that this afternoon is the day I open up my pond area for the annual ice-skating party. As I recall, there was a time when you cut a fine figure on the ice.”
“I haven’t skated in years.” Not since Stacy’s death. His skates had been packed away along with all the Christmas decorations they’d owned and stored in boxes in the barn. He’d intended to donate it all to a local charity but had never actually gotten around to it.
“I wasn’t thinking so much about you. I thought maybe you’d like to bring Melody and her girl out, enjoy the festivities for the afternoon.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jake replied. He couldn’t help but think how much fun Libby would have. Bob always went all out for his yearly skating parties. There were blow-up Santas and giant reindeer, bushes decorated with the ever-present mistletoe and hot cocoa for the children and Mistletoe Toddies for the adults.
“I’d like to see you out there again.” Bob took another drink of his coffee. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor if you come.”
“How’s that?” Jake asked dubiously.
“You know there are always more kids than adults out there, and I’ve got my hands full. If you come and bring Melody and her daughter then that makes two more adults and only one more kid.” Bob looked at him innocently.
Jake narrowed his eyes as he stared at the man who had brought him meals after Stacy’s death, who had sat with him for hours without speaking, just being there as the worst of Jake’s pain had peaked.
“Are you trying to do some sort of matchmaking?” Jake asked.
Bob grinned and raised one of his gray eyebrows. “From the gossip I’ve heard, the match has already been made. I just stopped by to remind you about the skating party this afternoon, that’s all.” He finished his coffee and stood. “And now I’d better get back to my place. I’ve still got plenty to do before this wingding happens.”
Jake walked with him back outside and to his truck. Bob stopped at the door and turned to look at Jake. “So can I expect you all at my place later?”
Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do around here.”
Bob stared at him for a long moment. “Don’t close yourself off anymore, Jake. You’ve grieved long enough. Stacy wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life all alone.”
Jake nodded to acknowledge Bob’s words. Intellectually he knew that, but emotionally he wasn’t sure he was there yet. “Thanks for stopping by, Bob,” he finally replied as Bob got back into his truck. “You’ve been a good neighbor, a good friend.”
“That’s been easy. You’re a good man, Jake. You’ve just been lost for the past couple of years. I see a new spark in you, and if Melody and her daughter have put it there, then you should grab on to it.” Bob started his truck and pulled away.
Jake stared after him until the vehicle disappeared from view. He returned to stacking the firewood next to the front door and tried not to think about Bob’s yearly ice-skating party, tried desperately not to think about Melody and Libby.
He’d spent the first couple of years after Stacy’s death thinking only of her, and then he’d reached a place where he’d tried desperately not to think of her or any other woman. Now he was fighting Melody and Libby filling his every thought.
Were they baking cookies this morning? Filling their kitchen with the sweet homey scent of sugar and cinnamon? Or had they gone into town to continue to explore the charm of a Christmas-bedecked, mistletoe-laden little town?
At noon he moved to the window that gave him a view of Melody’s house, half hoping her car wouldn’t be parked in front of the garage, indicating that she was home.
It was there, and before he realized what he was doing his cell phone was in his hand. She answered