A (kinda) Country Christmas: A Christian Holiday Romance Page 3

  Her gaze snapped to the window. “No. I didn’t. Can you check the weather real quick? It’s probably just a little front coming through.”

  Tapping his phone’s screen, he opened his weather app and frowned at the red warning across the top, then scrolled down to the radar. “Well, that’s not good. There’s a blizzard warning out. Looks like it was supposed to go north of us but shifted direction. It’s just starting but they’re calling for a foot or more by morning.”

  Kendra frowned. “Well that bites. You guys should probably head down the mountain then.”

  “You okay up here by yourself? What about the show tomorrow?”

  “If it’s too bad, they’ll cancel. But I’ll be fine. I survived last winter by myself, remember? And every other winter for the last eight years.”

  He tugged on one of her curls like he used to do when she was little. “Just lookin’ out for you, Squirt.”

  She pushed him. “You know I hate that name. Now scat.” She glanced over at Sadie who was busy filling the dishwasher. “You too, girl.”

  “Hey, I’ve lived here longer than you. A little snow doesn’t scare me.”

  “It’s not just a little. Did you not hear the word blizzard?”

  Sadie put in the last plate and turned around, wiping her hands on a dishrag. “I know, I know. I want to get back for Mari anyway.”

  “Good. You two get ready to go, I’m going to run upstairs and get you some blankets to put in your cars just in case.”

  Nate pulled on his hat and coat as he watched Sadie outfit herself for the weather as well, complete with a puffy, red winter jacket that resembled a marshmallow, a hat with a little poof on the top, and knitted gloves covered in green and red chevron stripes. She leaned over to tug on her brown, fur-topped boots, giving him a very nice but inappropriate view of her jean-hugged backside.

  “You have a problem with something?”

  He snapped his gaze up to see she’d glanced over at him. “Nope. Just admiring your—hat. Very cute.” Yeah. Her hat. That was it. Behave, Nate. Eyes up.

  She scowled but bent down, thankfully at her knees this time, and finished securing her boots.

  When she stood back up, she glanced over him, her gaze moving down to his toes then back up to his eyes. If he hadn’t known better, he would have guessed she was checking him out or something.

  “Is that all you’re wearing out there?”

  He looked down to his black coat. It was the warmest one he could find that didn’t make him look like puff the magic marshmallow. “Yeah, why?”

  “No gloves?”

  “I’m not used to the snow. Bought the hat at the airport when I got in yesterday.” He turned his head either way. “Spiffy, huh?”

  The roll of her eyes said her opinion before her words did. “You seem to have a color palette of one going on. Black coat. Black hat. Robbing a bank soon or something?”

  “I prefer to earn my money, thank you very much. And my shirt is blue. I like to mix it up occasionally.”

  Her mouth tipped into—was that a smile? “Well, I stand corrected. You are obviously the paragon of chic and stylish.”

  He started to retort but Kendra came down the stairs, arms laden with quilts. “I have two for each of you. Never can be too careful.”

  Nate grabbed the quilts off the top, not caring that they were way too girly for his taste, and squeezed his sister in a sideways bear hug. “Be safe, okay?”

  She hugged him back. “Of course. Aren’t I always?”

  If only. “Don’t make me start a list—”

  Pushing him toward the door, she laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll be safe. You be safe driving. It’s really coming down out there. You sure you don’t want to crash on the couch?”

  With the possibility of being snowed in for a few days? “Thanks, but I really need to get back to the hotel and finish up a few work things tonight.”

  Kendra huffed. “Maybe it’s a good thing my matchmaking scheme failed, Sadie. This one is obviously a workaholic.”

  Sadie grabbed her quilts and hugged her friend as well. “See? All things work out for the best.”

  Nate opened the door, letting in a whoosh of frigid air and white flakes. Sadie followed on his heels and headed for her ancient Ford pickup. Not what he would have expected from the woman who looked more like a twelve-year-old in her winter attire, but he supposed it was good in the weather.

  Getting in his own rented Expedition, he cranked the engine and turned the heat on high. Rubbing his hands to gain some warmth, he glanced over at Sadie’s truck. The old clunker revved to life, but after a few moments, a chug and a few gasps echoed across the drive, followed by silence.

  Six

  Sadie beat the steering wheel with her gloved fist then rested her forehead against it.

  Why now?

  The truck had been on its last leg for close to ten years, but Dad had always kept it kicking.

  But now, she wasn’t sure there was any mechanical CPR that could cure the noises that had just clanked from the engine before it went silent.

  A tapping rapped on her window, and she jerked her head up to see Nate standing beside the truck, shivering, his arms wrapped around his body. He shouted through the glass, “Need a jump?”

  She didn’t know a lot about cars, but she knew a jump wouldn’t come close to curing what ailed the old darlin’. Jerking out the keys, she grabbed her purse and hopped down from the cab, gritting her teeth against the cold. “It’s done for. I’ll need to get it towed.”

  “You live in Gatlinburg?”

  She nodded, fearing that he would offer her a lift and knowing she’d have no choice but to accept.

  “My hotel is right on the parkway. I can give you a lift.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. You get back in so you don’t freeze to death. I’ll run and go tell Kendra.”

  After a quick promise to her friend to call for a tow as soon as the weather cleared, Sadie ran back to Nate’s SUV, barely controlling the urge to give the old truck a swift kick in the tire for betraying her.

  Shutting the door behind her, she tugged off her gloves and warmed her hands in the vents. “Thank you for the lift. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Nate pulled out of the driveway and slowly started the descent down the winding mountain road. “How old is that truck anyway?”

  “Too old. 1970 Ford. My dad’s pride and joy.”

  ”Wow. Think it’s fixable?”

  Sadie shrugged. “No clue. Dad always took care of it.”

  He glanced over at her. “Is your dad—”

  An emptiness she tried to ignore tugged at her. “He died a few years ago of a heart attack, shortly after Mom. She died of cancer. I’ve always thought his heart just kinda broke after losing her and couldn’t take it anymore.”

  He glanced at her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  A nice, polite response. Loss was putting it mildly. Her parents had been a little odd, she would admit. Okay, maybe a lot odd. But they had loved big and had gone home close to each other, which had always been their prayer. “Thank you. But let me suggest you keep your eyes on the road.” She frowned at the snow pelting the windshield. “It’s getting worse. I’m sorry, I should have offered to drive.”

  His smile was big but his white knuckles on the steering wheel told the story. “I’m a big boy. I can drive in snow.”

  “Aren’t you used to private jets and limos or something?”

  He laughed, a nice, deep throaty sound that a girl could get used to hearing. Not this girl, though. “I think Kendra must have exaggerated a little. I don’t own nor could I afford a private jet, and I’m a big fan of rental cars, not rental drivers. I have even mastered driving on the opposite side of the road and car in a few countries. Want me to demonstrate?”

  She sat up quickly. “Don’t you dare.”

  A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Relax. It was a joke. You know what those are, right?”

 
Sitting back, she blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I’m usually not this crazy. The weather's frazzling my nerves.” She just wanted to get home to her little townhouse, make sure Mari was safe and sound and warm, run a nice, hot bubble bath, and melt the bad day away.

  Pulling out her cell, she tapped a message to Mari, making sure she had made it home from the shop okay. She watched but the cell gave a warning message about no service available.

  Just great.

  A few minutes later, Sadie squinted at something odd at the side of the road. What was— “Deer!”

  Nate slammed on the brakes, the anti-lock brakes kicking into gear and jerking them to a stop, as the buck darted in front of them.

  They skidded to a stop, just narrowly missing the tail end of the animal.

  Her heart jammed into her chest as she tried to process what had almost happened. Were they in the twilight zone today or something? She would ask what else could go wrong but feared it might usher in a freak December tornado or something.

  Nate reached across and grabbed her hand. His solid grip comforted her more than it should, but right now, she didn’t care. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I think my heart has resumed beating again. You?”

  “I’m alright. You ready to keep going? It’s only a few more miles I think.”

  “Yes. I need to get home and check on Mari. Just hope we make it in one piece.”

  “You and me both.”

  They made it to the parkway without incident. The road was oddly quiet for this time of night, only a few brave souls illuminated by the brilliant Christmas lights that lined the road and hung off each building. Sadie directed him to her little townhouse complex a few blocks off the main drag. He pulled into a parking spot in front of the unit she pointed out. “Well, we made it. One piece.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and tugged on her hat again. “A true Christmas miracle in this weather. I don’t envy your drive up the parkway, but at least you’re close.”

  Nate cleared his throat. “Listen, before I go—about the store. I want to—”

  “No, really, please don’t worry about it.” Her gaze dipped to his bandaged hand. Her fault. “I’m sorry about your hand. I should have—”

  He plucked a piece of paper out of a cup holder between them, took her hand, and pressed it into her palm. “I insist. I was clumsy. It was my mistake. Please let me help make it right. It’ll ruin my Christmas if I don’t do something to make up for it.”

  She glanced down to where he still held her hand with both of his. His warm skin was like a hot compress, dulling her good senses. She really shouldn’t take it… “Okay. Thank you.”

  With a final squeeze, he released her hand and smiled, displaying that adorable dimple he probably despised but every woman loved. “You’re welcome, and again, I’m sorry.”

  Stuffing the check into her pocket, she tugged her gloves on and grabbed her purse. “Well, I know you’re leaving soon, so I probably won’t see you. But it was nice meeting you. Have a safe trip.”

  He shook his head. “Liar-liar. It wasn’t nice meeting me, and you know it.”

  A few hours ago, Sadie would have agreed with him. But there was something intriguing about her friend’s brother. But it didn’t matter. She’d probably never see him again, and that was definitely for the best. “Just remember, you said it, not me.” She retorted back with a laugh as she opened the door and slid down to the snow-packed pavement.

  Shutting the door behind her, she trekked up the sidewalk to the end-unit townhouse she shared with her daughter.

  Turning to wave, she kept her hand down as the SUV lumbered out of the parking lot.

  A pang of regret stung her, but she shook her head. It was for the best.

  Hurrying inside, she tried not to shiver as she peeled off her damp coat and gloves and kicked off her boots. “Mari, you home?”

  “Kitchen.”

  Padding down the hall, she breathed in the heavenly scent of cookies baking that just started to fill the room. “Cooking?”

  Her daughter was rolling out dough on the counter, a poof of flour dotting her cheek. “It’s cold. It’s the first weekend of December. I figured now was a good time.”

  “Want some help?”

  Her daughter eyed her like she’d just suggested they rob a bank together. “What do you think?”

  It was a well-known fact that Sadie couldn’t bake if her life depended on it. She managed most meals okay, just not to Kendra’s culinary genius level. But baking—not-so-much. She’d ruined every baked good she’d ever attempted, from birthday cakes to brownies to the most sad thing of all, Christmas cookies.

  There wasn’t a lot more pathetic than a crispy Santa-shaped sugar cookie.

  Still, it always made her sad not to help with the Christmas cookies. “Well, how about I frost when you’re done?”

  “On one condition.”

  Sadie sat at a bar stool and frowned. “Hey, who’s mother and who’s daughter here?”

  Mari tucked a blond curl behind her ear and shot her a smile. “Do you want to help or not?”

  “Fine. What’s your condition?” She’d frost the cookies regardless. But she might as well humor the girl.

  “You tell me all about your date with Mr. Hottie out there.”

  Oh crud. She’d hoped Mari hadn’t seen him. “First, he has a name. Nate Meyers. Turns out our tree-wrecker is Kendra’s big brother.”

  Mari paused mid-roll and gawked. “No way.”

  “Yes way. And unlucky for me, he came into town this weekend and Kendra just happened to invite me to dinner, and conveniently left out that it was dinner for three.”

  “Wow. So, how did that go?”

  “About as bad as you could imagine, although the lasagna was to die for.” She reached for her over-sized purse she’d set on the floor and grabbed the container from it. “Kendra sent you leftovers.”

  “Thanks, but don’t change the subject. How did this dinner-date go from bad to him escorting you home?”

  “Truck died. For good I think. I’ve never heard such awful noises come from an engine before.”

  Mari set aside the rolling pin and leaned against the counter, worry beyond her years etched in her eyes. “What are we going to do? We need that to—”

  She held up a hand to stop her. “It’s my concern. Not yours. Let Momma worry about it, okay?”

  “Fine. But back to my original question. Could there, like, be something between you and this Nate guy?”

  Oh good grief. Her daughter, the hopeless romantic. “No. Definitely not. He’s too—urban.”

  Mari wrinkled her nose. “What, like, Keith?”

  “Huh? Who’s Keith?” Then it clicked. Crazy child. “No. You and your country music. I mean urban as in city-boy. He travels the world, owns a vacation house on the beach, grew up in New York City. He wouldn’t be interested in a country bumpkin like me.”

  “You’re not as country as you think you are, Mom.”

  She’d lived in the epitome of country for almost twenty years. Of course she was. “Mari, I—”

  “No, listen Mom. You lived here because Grandma and Grandpa moved here, and you wanted their help to raise me. I get it. But this was never your home. You don’t act like a country girl. Just like that crazy tree you decorated in the shop. That should have been on display in some fancy New York City Christmas display, not here. Gatlinburg is more burlap and bows than glass and sparkle.”

  The girl had no idea what she was talking about. “I fit in here just fine. Do I need to go get my cowgirl boots and hat to prove it?”

  Mari slid a pan of cookies out of the oven and plopped it down on the oven. “What is that Shakespeare quote you’re always spouting off to me? Methinks you protest too much?”

  “If you’re going to quote him, get it right, dear. It’s ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

  “Whatever. You know what I meant.”

  She did, and she als
o didn’t want to discuss it, especially with her daughter. Her inner struggles about where she belonged were not something she had let anyone in on, and she wasn’t about to start today. “Well, in other news, Mr. Urban Hottie gave us a check to help with the tree.”

  Her daughter’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  Sadie pulled the check from her pocket and set it, still folded, on the counter. “It probably won’t even cover the cost of that tree, but it’ll help some.” Maybe they could get a loan from the bank for a used car to replace the truck.

  It’d be tight, but they would figure it out.

  “I have a little saved from my paychecks if it would help.”

  “Absolutely not. You need to be saving for college, remember? That was the plan.”

  Mari slid the cup of homemade frosting over to Sadie and a tray of un-iced cookies. “So, how much is it?”

  Sadie picked up the first cookie and started to slather the green mixture over it. “I haven’t even looked at it yet.”

  Before Sadie could argue, Mari snatched up the check and turned it over. She paused, then her throat bobbed as if she was swallowing something thick.

  “Mom—”

  Sadie cringed. It probably wouldn’t even cover the cost of the artificial tree. “It’s okay, we can always—”

  “No. Mom, look.”

  Mari turned the check toward her.

  The cookie in Sadie’s hand plummeted to the floor.

  Seven

  Nate stood at the hotel window, amazed at how the scene below had transformed overnight.

  Gone were the patchy bits of snow here and there, and in their place rested a fresh blanket of white as if God himself had doused the town with a bit of powdered sugar in celebration of Jesus’ birth.

  The plows had already been through, so the streets were mostly clear and the sidewalks seemed walkable between fresh mounds of snow. They’d ended up getting only half the snowfall that had been predicted.

  Kendra had already called to cancel breakfast. The show was still on for this afternoon but she had to be there early and wasn’t going to be able to make it to Gatlinburg beforehand.