Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“The big drill is for me,” I say firmly.
The last time I let her get up on a ladder, she fell off and nearly gave both of us a heart attack. She laughed off the bruises, but I worried that she had broken a hip or knee.
“You fall off one ladder, one time,” she mutters under her breath as she flicks off the light to the register. It’s just a formality. Her last customer is gone.
“It was a twelve-foot ladder,” I remind her. “Now, why don’t you get the refrigeration systems shut down while I start boarding up?”
She makes a noise of annoyance but goes to do as I suggested.
I don’t even have to look at the coolers to know that she’s already out of milk, butter, eggs, and other staples that require refrigeration. She always sells at a deep discount to the families that struggle financially. She’s never met a hurting soul that she wasn’t bound and determined to help.
Three hours later, I’ve gotten everything boarded up and secured for the snowstorm. Harsh weather is a fact of life here in Courage County. But the beautiful views and kind hearts more than make up for that.
“Don’t forget,” Emma May tells me, “We’re doing the celebration a couple of days after Christmas.”
I nod. She’s fostered countless children in addition to raising some of her own. She often celebrates Christmas with her boys at different times throughout December.
“What do you want this year? I know you’ve been the best boy.” The way she beams at me makes my throat feel tight.
I’m almost tempted to tell her that what I want from Saint Nick this year is a wife and kids. But that’s a surefire way to have her parading every possible woman in front of me.
Call it a side effect of what I do, but I want to meet a woman and get married and have babies. Maybe add some rooms to my cabin, build out a nice kennel for my dogs.
Instead, I find myself saying, “Some new boots would be nice.”
“Excellent.” She claps her hands together. “I got you something before you go.”
She leads me to the back of the store and pulls out a huge cardboard box from inventory. It’s almost bigger than she is.
“Well, that’s a lot of boots.”
She waves her hand. “Don’t open it until you get home. Promise me.”
“Promise, Ma,” I say and press a kiss to her weathered cheek. Couldn’t have asked for a better foster mom.
“You get home before that storm rolls in.” She waves me away, already cutting off the last of the lights.
I carry the box to my truck, setting it in the back carefully. The brutally cold wind blows, ruffling the edges of my flannel shirt. Winter is sending her last warning message, and the wise should heed it.
Still, I hang around the parking lot for a few minutes. I wait until I see Emma May climb into her vehicle and reverse. Content that she’s headed toward safety, I finally start back up the mountain, already dreading my lonely holiday.
My radio starts blaring cheerful music, something about a girl who only wants me for Christmas. With a soft sigh, I tell myself, “Maybe next year you won’t be so lonely.”
Chapter 2
Holly
I hate Christmas. There, I said it. So, when the holiday-themed ringtone starts playing from my phone, I’m tempted to throw it out the window.
I want a break from the endless cheer of the season. I should be allowed that. But, as the oldest daughter of the family, I am not allowed to hate Christmas. At least, not in any way that shows on my face.
Inside, I am a seething grump. I finally answer on the third ring, but only when I see that it’s a call from my sister.
“Where are you?” Joy hisses.
Frosty makes a soft sound, and I glance into the backseat that holds the pet carrier for my Pomeranian puppy. He’s active and playful on the best of days so the long drive is frustrating for him.
“Soon,” I promise him quietly.
“I’m here at the hospital,” Joy says when I don’t answer her immediately.
Our family hosts an annual charity event for the hospital in Sweetgrass River. It’s why I’m dressed in a ridiculous elf costume as I drive to…well, I’m not sure where I am anymore. I suspect my GPS turned me around on the last exit. But I don’t tell my sister that. She would freak out.
“I’m on my way,” I answer in my reassuring big sister voice. This mountain I’m on is absolutely beautiful, but the snow flurries dancing in the air are making me nervous. There’s supposed to be a snowstorm hitting parts of North Carolina today. But not near Sweetgrass, which is where I should be right about now.
“You should have been here already,” she says. I can imagine her dressed up in an over-the-top costume complete with shoes that are killing her feet.