A Mistletoe Christmas: Santa's Mistletoe Mistake / A Merry Little Wedding / Mistletoe Magic. Carla Cassidy

she looked out the passenger window of the car.

      “According to the weatherman, we’re supposed to have a white Christmas.”

      Libby clapped her hands together. “Then on Christmas Day we can make a snowman with a carrot nose and red gumdrops for a mouth and some of my blue sequins for eyes.”

      Melody laughed. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this snowman.”

      “Everything is going to be just perfect this Christmas,” Libby replied with a smug smile. “You just wait until you see what Santa Claus brings for us, and then we’ll both be so happy.”

      “Then I can’t wait,” Melody replied lightly, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was her daughter expected to happen when Santa came.

      By the time she found a parking place smack-dab in the middle of Main Street, Libby had already moved on to talking about the different stores she wanted to visit.

      It was just after ten and already the sidewalks bustled with people. An energy filled the air, the energy of only seven days left until Christmas Day. While most of the people who shared the sidewalks walked with purpose, as if knowing what needed to be bought and determined to get it done, Libby and Melody walked hand in hand and at a slower pace.

      “Carrie’s Christmas Shop first,” Libby said as they approached the store.

      Their entry into the store was announced by the tinkle of bells, and the scent of cinnamon and spices filled the shop. “Mmm, it smells good in here,” Libby said, and then raced forward to watch a miniature train making its way around the base of a beautifully decorated tree.

      “Isn’t it cute, Mom?” Libby said. “And the tree is so pretty.”

      “It is, but remember that I told you that this year we’re having an old-fashioned tree? We’ll spend Christmas Eve having so much fun decorating it.”

      “Hi, Melody,” Carrie, the proprietor of the store, greeted her. Carrie’s thirteen-year-old daughter took dance lessons at Melody’s.

      “Hey, Carrie. Libby and I decided to do a little window-shopping today, but I have a feeling I’m not going to get out of here without buying whatever it is that smells so wonderful,” Melody replied.

      “It’s probably the cinnamon candles. Don’t they smell lovely?”

      Melody cast a quick glance at her daughter, who had drifted off to a display of teddy bears. “Remember, Libby, we don’t touch.”

      “I know.” Libby shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I’m just looking.”

      “She’s so cute,” Carrie said, and sidled closer to Melody. “I heard a little tidbit of gossip this morning that was very interesting. It had to do with you and Jake Hanson.”

      Melody felt her cheeks fill with the warmth of a blush. “It was just an impromptu quick dinner at the café. Goodness, news travels fast around here.”

      Carrie laughed. “Especially when it involves Jake Hanson and any woman. He’s been the town hermit since his wife died five years ago.”

      “Oh, he’s a widower?” Melody hadn’t heard about him having had a wife.

      “Stacy died in a car accident.... It was just around this time of the year.” Carrie frowned. “As I remember, it was a bad winter and we had an ice storm. Stacy had come into town to do some last-minute shopping, and on her way home a semitruck scissored in front of her and she hit it.”

      “How tragic.” Melody’s heart squeezed tight as she thought about the man she’d shared her meal with the night before. No wonder he’d said he hated Christmas. She would forever hate rodeos because it had been at one of those events that Seth had died. But it was much easier for her to avoid rodeos than for Jake to avoid Christmas, especially in this town.

      Melody was almost grateful when the bell over the door tinkled, announcing new shoppers in the shore. She found Libby looking at a tree-topper angel that turned bright colors like the lights on a Vegas casino.

      “Isn’t she beautiful, Mom?”

      Tacky was closer to the word Melody might have used.

      “Wait a minute and she’ll turn purple. You know how much I love purple.”

      Melody thought of the angel that had always topped their tree, a beautiful white one whose feathered wings had become rather bedraggled through the years.

      “I’ll tell you what. How about I buy one of those scented candles for me and for you we’ll get this angel to top our tree from now on?”

      “Oh, Mom, thank you!” Libby threw her arms around Melody’s waist for a quick hug and then grabbed one of the boxed angels and held it tight against her chest.

      So they’d have an old-fashioned Christmas tree with a Vegas stripper on the top, Melody thought as she paid for the two items. Definitely new beginnings, she reminded herself.

      She and Libby stepped back outside into the bracing December air, and she tried to put out of her mind the handsome face of Jake Hanson, who she now knew had lost at love just as she had.

      * * *

      JAKE HAD NO idea what he was doing, but when he saw the dark-haired woman in the bright red coat with the little girl by her side, he knew he’d come to town specifically for the possibility of running into Melody again.

      He’d been chased out of the house by the silence that for a long time had felt comforting, but in the past few months had grown more and more oppressive.

      As he’d driven by Melody’s house, he hadn’t seen her car parked outside, but he hoped to run into her in town. He had enjoyed his dinner with her and discovered a hunger to see her again.

      It had surprised him, the desire to spend more time with her. He’d sworn when he lost Stacy that no woman would ever hold any place in his life again. But wanting to spend a little time with somebody and inviting them fully into his life were two very different things, he reminded himself as he hurried to catch up to Melody and her daughter.

      “Hey,” he said as he touched her on the shoulder.

      Both Melody and her daughter turned, Melody’s face lighting with a smile and her daughter’s face holding distinct suspicion as she eyed him from the tip of his hat to the toes of his boots. “Who are you?” she asked.

      “Libby, this is Mr. Hanson. He lives next door to us,” Melody said. “Surely you’ve seen him on his horse in the pasture next to our house before.”

      “I don’t like him. Come on, Mom, let’s go.” She grabbed Melody’s hand and attempted to drag her away.

      Melody looked at her daughter in obvious shock. “Libby, you’re being very rude. Now, you apologize to Mr. Hanson.”

      “Sorry,” Libby said, but the mutinous pout of her lower lip indicated otherwise.

      “Apology accepted, and you can call me Jake, although I have to say that I’ve never had anyone not like me before they got to know me.” He glanced back at Melody. “So where are you two headed?”

      “We are doing a little window-shopping,” Melody replied.

      He gestured to the shopping bags in her hand. “Looks as if the window got the best of you.”

      She laughed, and for a moment, in the sound of her laughter, he didn’t feel the cold wintry air nor notice the other people who passed them on the sidewalk. He was filled with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time—the warmth of pleasure in the simple sound of a woman’s laughter.

      “Where are you headed now?” he asked.

      “I’d like to check out the store in the old Victorian house at the end of Main Street,” she replied.

      “Mistletoe Magic. It’s a new age kind of store,