Mistletoe In Montana: A Christmas Novella Read online

  “Kiss him,” Daphne instructed. Her eyes twinkled with expectation.

  “Come on,” Lizette urged. “Kiss the elf.”

  Brenna reached up and aimed for his cheek. On impulse, Luke turned his head so that her lips would connect with his own. As soon as he felt Brenna’s soft lips making contact with his he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close to him. Brenna responded to the kiss almost immediately. Her lips were warm and soft as she moved her lips against his. They tasted like Christmas cookies. Sugar and spice and everything nice. The refrain ran through his head. It was how he felt about kissing this woman.

  He felt her reach up to cup his cheek with the palm of her hand. Just a simple touch from Brenna made him feel like he was on top of the world. Strong. Powerful. Capable of doing anything. It energized him, made him feel as if all was right in his world. No other woman had ever made him feel this way. He slowed the kiss down, knowing that it had to end sometime, even though he could have gone on kissing Brenna till the end of time.

  As they broke apart, the sound of applause rang in his ears. He had almost forgotten about their audience. Daphne and Lizette were smiling and clapping while Brenna’s face was turning red.

  He reached out and tipped her chin up. “You’re not growing bashful on me, are you?”

  “Maybe just a little,” she admitted, casting a quick glance at her sisters. “I’m not used to being kissed in front of an audience.”

  Lisette waved her hand in the air. “We used to see the two of you kissing all the time back in the day.”

  “Ages ago,” Luke murmured, never breaking eye contact with Brenna. Her face was always expressive, but her eyes always reflected her emotions. What was she feeling at this very moment? Joy? Confusion? Awkwardness?

  She had been just as invested in the kiss as he had been. Those things couldn’t be faked. But what did it mean? Were they both sinking back into nostalgia and allowing the Christmas holidays to push them back into the familiar rhythms of their relationship? He knew what he felt for Brenna and it was no passing fancy. His feelings were very real. They always had been. The question was—what did Brenna feel for him?

  As if she sensed his intense thoughts, Brenna took a step away from him and said in a light voice, “Let’s get this cookie contest started. I can’t wait to be crowned as the winner.”

  A quick glance at the clock confirmed that he had less than half an hour before his brother was coming by to pick him up. It was time to have Hector taste the cookies to determine which one would be crowned the winner.

  As they each gathered up samples of the cookies they had baked—shortbread, gingersnaps, sugar cookies and thumbprints—they headed to the dining room where Hector had been called. Each of them placed a plate with their cookie on it in front of him. Hector grinned and licked his lips. Luke laughed at the picture he presented. He looked like a little kid awaiting a trip to the candy store. One by one Hector took a bite of each cookie. Each time he let out a groan of delight and raved about the cookie. It was anyone’s guess which cookie was going to be chosen as the best of the best.

  All of a sudden Isabelle sailed through the doorway with a plate in her hands. “One more cookie to try, my love,” she cooed. “It’s my specialty.”

  “Hey! That’s not fair!” Daphne cried out. “You weren’t in there making cookies with us.”

  Isabelle flashed her a pearly smile. “I made mine last night when everyone had gone to bed.” She wagged a finger at them. “No one said the cookies had to be made this morning, did they?”

  She placed her cookie in front of Hector.

  “Is that a snickerdoodle?” Luke asked. He was practically drooling at the sight of it. He remembered all too well how tasty they were. Mmm. He could almost taste it melting in his mouth.

  “We’re goners,” Brenna whispered, jutting her chin in the direction of her father. Hector had a rapturous expression on his face as he bit into the snickerdoodle, then let out a cry of delight.

  He held up the last morsel of cookie and cried out, “We’ve got a winner here. Snickerdoodle takes it by a landslide.” He popped the remainder of the cookie into his mouth and shut his eyes.

  Luke, along with Daphne, Brenna and Lizette, let out loud groans of disapproval. Isabelle clapped her hands together and did a little jig in front of them.

  “The fix was in,” Lizette grumbled. “Although those snickerdoodles are pretty amazing.”

  The sudden peal of the doorbell heralded his brother’s arrival at the ranch. Although Luke knew that he had things to do and places to go, the thought of leaving the Santiago home bothered him. He was as comfortable here as he was in his own home. Even though he had only been here less than twenty-four hours, he’d made progress with Brenna. He didn’t know where they were headed, but the possibilities thrilled him. And he was a little bit afraid that if he left Half Moon Ranch, she might retreat from him on an emotional level. Everything seemed so fragile between them, as if a stiff wind might blow it all apart.

  Once upon a time he had believed that he would never forgive her for crushing his heart. Forgiveness, he was beginning to realize, was a process one had to walk through. With time and maturity, all wounds could heal. Even one that had ripped his entire life wide open.

  Now, he just had to figure out if Brenna was ready to give their relationship another shot.

  Brenna knew that it would be rude to avoid seeing Dean. She let out a sigh as she followed Luke to the front door. She watched as Daphne swung it open and the second handsomest man in town was invited in by her sister. Like Luke, Dean was dark haired and handsome. His frame was a bit brawnier and his eyes were a vivid shade of green. Luke greeted his brother warmly, as did Daphne. Tension buzzed in the air as Dean turned toward her.

  She knew instinctively by his guarded façade that the past still stood between them. He nodded at her. “Brenna,” he said in a strong voice.

  “Dean,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Eight long years,” he drawled. “Are you back for the holidays?”

  She hesitated for a moment, then answered. “I’m actually home for good.”

  Dean couldn’t hide his surprise. He swung his gaze toward Luke. They exchanged a silent communication that Brenna imagined had something to do with her.

  “How are the roads?” Luke asked, clearly trying to diffuse the tension.

  “They’re not too bad. I just came from town to get some supplies. The stores are up and running. Plows are all over the place.”

  “That’s good to hear. I have some properties to show to potential buyers over in Crossland later this afternoon,” Luke said.

  Dean snapped his fingers as if he had just remembered something. “I happened to run into Lucy. She wants you to give her a call. Says she was worried about you.”

  Brenna’s heart lurched. Lucy? Judging by the expression on Dean’s face he had deliberately mentioned the woman’s name in her presence. She couldn’t say that she blamed him. He was trying to protect his brother, she imagined. Brenna would do the same thing for her sisters in a heartbeat. Although she wanted to pull Dean aside and reassure him that she wasn’t a threat to Luke, there was no way that she could utter those words with certainty.

  Did she even know why she’d broken his heart all those years ago? She wasn’t even certain if she’d loved Hank when she’d dumped Luke for him—not in the deepest regions of her heart. That knowledge saddened her. Although she had grown to love her husband, it hadn’t been love for him that had led her to break off things with Luke. Then why had she done it? If she couldn’t understand it herself, how could she expect other people, including Luke, to realize how deeply she regretted it? How she wished that she could turn back time and make better, worthier choices.

  And even though it seemed as if something had been percolating between her and Luke, this Lucy might make it all a moot point. Was she Luke’s girlfriend? Or someone he was interested in? A feeling of jealousy swept over her, a
long with a burst of anger. Why had he kissed her?

  Brenna tried to rein herself in. She had no right to get territorial over Luke. Eight years was a long time to expect Luke to stay single. Although the two kisses they had shared had been way more than platonic.

  “Thanks for giving me shelter,” Luke said. His gaze settled on her. Feeling uncomfortable about him possibly having a girlfriend, Brenna looked away from him.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow at the cookie stroll,” Daphne said in a chirpy voice. “Thanks for making the ginger snaps.”

  Luke winked at Daphne. “It was my pleasure. Can’t wait to tell my mom I made her famous recipe.”

  Brenna mumbled a half-hearted goodbye and stepped back as Daphne ushered them outside. Luke sent her a questioning gaze, then headed outdoors into the frigid afternoon, trailing after Dean.

  As soon as the door closed, Brenna turned on her heel in order to head upstairs. She needed to be by herself to think about things. Suddenly it felt as if she had made a big mistake by giving into her feelings for Luke. She’d kissed him twice and enjoyed light-hearted, flirtatious banter with him. And she’d enjoyed every blessed moment of it!

  But now, in the clear light of day, she wasn’t feeling very confident about her actions. Or the potential for anything lasting to develop between her and Luke. Hadn’t they already had their shot at love? And she had tossed it aside. What was the likelihood of Luke returning her feelings after everything she’d put him through? It wasn’t as if time had stood still for the past eight years!

  Miracles happen all the time at Christmas! Hadn’t Rosalia always said that to the Santiago girls? As a child she had always believed it. As she flopped herself onto her bed, chaotic thoughts swirled around her. Why was it so hard to believe that she deserved a happily-ever-after?

  CHAPTER 5

  The winter storm had left quite an impression on Half Moon Ranch. It was a veritable winter wonderland outside. Luke noticed that the plows had come and cleared out the driveway, as well as the dirt road leading back to the gates and the main road. As always, the ranch looked pristine and beautiful. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the notion that this spread would soon belong to him. He shook off the feeling that had been buzzing around inside him since yesterday afternoon. Something didn’t feel quite right about him assuming ownership of the Santiago’s ranch.

  Once Luke settled into the passenger side of Dean’s truck and buckled up, he shot his brother a nasty glare.

  “What was all that talk about Lucy for?” he snapped.

  Dean narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I was simply passing on a message.”

  “Seems like you were trying to give one to Brenna,” Luke said.

  “You’re a fool if you go back down that road again,” Dean spit out. “She dished out a world of hurt to you and never once looked back.”

  Luke let out a ragged sigh. “She did.”

  “I heard she was back. Someone said the tabloids did a story on her a while back.” Dean raised his eyebrow. “They said she’s split with her husband.”

  “Seems so,” Luke admitted. “Divorced going on almost a year now.”

  Dean revved the engine as he emitted a loud groan. “So, she’s available?”

  Luke kept quiet. He had no way of even tackling that question.

  Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road. He turned toward Luke. “Don’t blame the messenger, but it’s highly unlikely that the two of you are going to walk off into the sunset together.”

  “How do you know? How does anyone ever know whether that will happen or not? The way I figure it, Brenna and I have more of a shot than most people.”

  “How do you figure that?” Dean asked, his tone incredulous. “Last go-round she nearly destroyed you.”

  “It was painful when things ended between us, but the one thing I know for certain is that we loved each other. Truly loved and adored each other.”

  Dean’s jaw clenched. “I just don’t want to see you eaten alive again by Brenna. It tore me up inside to see you so gutted the last time.”

  Luke reached out and grabbed ahold of his brother’s shoulder. “Thanks for caring, Dean. And thanks for being there when the bottom fell out of my world all those years ago. You’re a good man. And an even better brother.”

  Dean turned his eyes back to the road and nodded. “I’ll always be here for you, Luke. Even if things don’t go the way you’ve planned.” His voice was choked with emotion. Although Luke knew his brother was only speaking from his heart, he also recognized that he was the only one who could chart his own course. Dean couldn’t decide his future for him. And he had a strong feeling that God was leading him straight back to Brenna.

  Luke reached out and turned the radio on. He grinned as the strains of Christmas music rang out in the truck. He began to sing the words to “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” at the top of his lungs. Before he knew it, Dean had joined in. It reminded him of growing up in the Templeton household and all the joy that Christmas had always brought to his family.

  Luke didn’t know how to explain it, but a feeling of hope had nestled inside of him. Christmas had always been a hopeful time, and nothing represented that better than the birth of Christ. But now, with Brenna’s return to Merry, he couldn’t help but nurture a secret wish that Christmas would bring love back into his life.

  Brenna found herself counting down the hours until the cookie stroll on Sunday. Once Luke had left the ranch with Dean she’d had withdrawal symptoms. It felt strange to miss someone who hadn’t been in one’s life for eight years, but it was the truth nevertheless. She ached to be in his presence. Being in the bosom of her family was wonderful, but it felt as if something or someone was missing. Luke. It was near impossible to know what to do with all these feelings that were surging to the surface. Had she buried them for all these years? Was she really falling back in love with Luke? Or had she loved him this whole time?

  Brenna’s dreams were filled with Luke. She had been chasing him on horseback and he was ahead of her just out of reach. The dream left her feeling sad and unsettled. And she knew what it meant in her real existence. She was afraid that Luke was out of reach. A dream she couldn’t manage to grab ahold of, even if she tried her hardest to do so.

  Brenna had a hard time picking an outfit for the cookie stroll. Although she loved clothes she also knew that the residents of Merry didn’t necessarily care about fashion. It was worlds apart from life in California. In the end she picked a festive pair of red slacks and a fun Christmas sweater that she hadn’t worn since high school. Her whole family had decided to wear festive sweaters. It was somewhat of a tradition for the congregation to wear Christmas sweaters to the cookie stroll. Brenna chuckled as she looked at herself in the mirror. Thankfully, her parents had held on to most of the personal belongings she had left in her bedroom. It made her wonder if they had always hoped she might one day return to Merry.

  Although she tried to stop herself, Brenna couldn’t resist looking around the hall for Luke. Many townsfolk stopped her to say hello and catch up with her. Brenna found some of the questions about her career and life in California awkward, but she held her head up high and tried to be relaxed and friendly. Considering how little attention she had devoted to her hometown over the years, she considered herself lucky to be treated so well by the people she’d left behind.

  Suddenly, she felt the heat of Luke’s gaze focused on her. He was wearing his own festive sweater adorned with frolicking reindeer and snowflakes. He looked utterly ridiculous in the most adorable way possible.

  He seemed to be studying her from across the room, which left her feeling a bit uncertain. What was he thinking? After yesterday’s kiss she didn’t know what to think. It had been romantic and sweet and full of tenderness. She prayed he wasn’t regretting it. Although she wanted to be bold and ask him about Lucy, she didn’t want to throw cold water on the nice vibe between them.

  Feeling bold, she made her way
across the room to where he was standing with a half-filled cookie tin in his hand. “Nice sweater,” she said with an approving nod.

  “It takes a brave man to wear this kind of over-the-top Christmas sweater,” Luke drawled. He rocked back on his heels. “I figured I’d just roll with it.”

  “You are definitely pulling off the look,” Brenna said with a grin.

  “And no fair. You look amazing in your sweater,” Luke said as he gave her the once-over.

  Brenna looked down at her sweater. It had a fat snowman and a jolly Santa Claus emblazoned on the front. “This is the ugliest sweater I own. Believe it or not, my parents never got rid of my things. Everything is pretty much the way I left it.”

  Something flickered in Luke’s eyes. “They always had hope in their hearts that you would come back to stay.”

  “Really?” she asked, blinking away tears. Little by little she was learning tidbits about the family she adored. Over the years she had convinced herself that they hadn’t missed her in their lives. For Brenna, it had been a way of not feeling badly about the way she had left her hometown without a single glance backward.

  Luke’s words confirmed what she’d been thinking earlier when she had realized her room had remained unchanged. It caused a groundswell of emotion to rise up inside her. Hope. It was such a valuable commodity. Not just at this time of the year, but always. Her parents had hoped and prayed for her return to town. The items in her bedroom served as a testimony of that fact. And now she was back in the bosom of her family. It had taken her years and years to come full circle and realize that Merry was the only place that had ever felt like home.

  Luke jutted his chin at her cookies. “Your tin looks pretty full there. Hey, that one looks good.” He reached out and began to dip his fingers into her cookie tin. Brenna playfully swatted his hand before he could make off with her coconut treasure cookie.

  “Hands off! You’ve got your own,” she warned, pulling her tin close to her chest. “Trudy Barnswell made them. You can go get your own at that table in the far corner.”