Книга - Christmas Wish Come True: All I Want For Christmas / Dreaming of a White Wedding / Christmas Every Day

Christmas Wish Come True: All I Want For Christmas / Dreaming of a White Wedding / Christmas Every Day
Gina Rochelle

Misty Shaw

Jaimie Admans


All I Want for Christmas by Gina RochelleDitching her faithless fiancé, schoolteacher Isabella plans to spend the holidays alone. But when she unintentionally inspires a young pupil to make an impossible wish, she joins forces with his – totally gorgeous – uncle to put things right! Could two wishes come true this Christmas?Dreaming of a White Wedding by Misty ShawWhen Scarlet discovered her husband-to-be in a passionate clinch with her bridesmaid, she called off her Valentine’s wedding and ran away to London. But when her sister asks for her help, she can’t refuse…even if it means coming face-to-face with her ex – the man she never stopped loving!Christmas Every Day by Jaimie AdmansEmma loves bumping into Gorgeous Dog Walker, Nick, every evening. But when he ends up in a coma (partly her fault), she ends up taking care of ‘his job’…and his dog! Emma stopped believing in Santa years ago, but this Christmas her world is about to be turned upside down!Christmas Wish Come True is a gift for you this December, snuggle up by the fire, leave the stresses of Christmas shopping behind you…and relax!







All I Want for Christmas by Gina Rochelle

Ditching her faithless fiancé, schoolteacher Isabella plans to spend the holidays alone. But when she unintentionally inspires a young pupil to make an impossible wish, she joins forces with his – totally gorgeous – uncle to put things right! Could two wishes come true this Christmas?





Dreaming of a White Wedding by Misty Shaw

When Scarlet discovered her husband-to-be in a passionate clinch with her bridesmaid, she called off her Valentine’s wedding and ran away to London. But when her sister asks for her help, she can’t refuse…even if it means coming face-to-face with her ex – the man she never stopped loving!





Christmas Every Day by Jaimie Admans

Emma loves bumping into Gorgeous Dog Walker, Nick, every evening. But when he ends up in a coma (partly her fault), she ends up taking care of ‘his job’…and his dog! Emma stopped believing in Santa years ago, but this Christmas her world is about to be turned upside down!


Christmas Wish Come True

All I Want for Christmas

Gina Rochelle

Dreaming of a White Wedding

Misty Shaw

Christmas Every Day

Jaimie Admans









Copyright (#ulink_7984a6ad-8ae4-5ee2-8302-cfebf57ee1b4)

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Gina Rochelle/Misty Shaw/Jaimie Admans 2015

Gina Rochelle/Misty Shaw/Jaimie Admans asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474047319

Version date: 2018-07-23


Contents

Cover (#ubd2d5bb9-8023-51f6-958a-f27186cb6d12)

Blurb (#u6fb1d96b-bf8f-50d9-85e3-4164c4e6f0c1)

Title Page (#u5d3db240-06fe-5883-bf5a-e3c1aa042351)

Copyright (#uf261386e-11cf-53e3-bec5-5b0316b8ca8f)

All I Want for Christmas (#ulink_0a52e054-3af5-54e8-8782-9d853ccf8ae4)

Author Bio (#u76407040-24a2-5539-ac7c-d29d50142162)

Dedication (#uafb50e7d-0085-5989-8094-6bd3beeb8d18)

Chapter One (#ulink_6507fe6f-982d-5621-b304-e7c034d42518)

Chapter Two (#ulink_0ac85270-3de9-51f1-bdb8-04db3bcbe7f6)

Chapter Three (#ulink_61bdf477-36d1-586f-9cff-446c09afb797)

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Dreaming of a White Wedding

Author Bio (#u76407040-24a2-5539-ac7c-d29d50142162)

Dedication (#ubf4dccff-e3a7-543b-a774-d97b40e89e00)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Christmas Every Day

Author Bio (#ub2aea7ae-d575-50cc-8799-e4cb09edb349)

Dedication (#uc554fa38-a981-5a21-a591-0ac2f1753857)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Endpage (#u9a455d6b-bc6e-54ec-bf83-c5fbe673fce7)

About the Publisher (#uc75d93dd-4e62-573e-9514-e406cba9adf0)


All I Want for Christmas (#ulink_3aef50a0-1cb6-5064-9638-b081ede0f210)

Gina Rochelle


GINA ROCHELLE was born and raised in the great state of Iowa – America’s heartland – where her love of reading, writing, and nature was nurtured. She couldn’t imagine a better place to grow up, but the dreamer in her was inspired by the beautiful settings and happily ever afters she read about in books. Gina fell in love with romances when she was twelve years old, and it soon became her dream to create her own. For many years she lived in Florida, where she raised her son and worked different jobs…even working as a Disney World cast member. But her dream of becoming a romance writer remained in her heart. Today, Gina lives in colourful Colorado – where she gets endless inspiration from the beautiful Rocky Mountains and is grateful to finally have the career of her dreams – writing romance.


For my mom, whose loving encouragement gave me the confidence to follow my dream. And whose love of Christmas has lived on in me.


Chapter One (#ulink_3bfdf216-2f56-591c-b171-70ac42e0822b)

Isabella Stevens fought the urge to rebel against the hushed quiet that surrounded her. Even the school halls seemed to know how she’d be spending the long Thanksgiving weekend, not to mention the Christmas holidays.

Alone.

She looked down at her heavy snow boots, tempted to kick them off and slide across the polished floor in her stockinged feet. Maybe it would help her to forget her canceled plans…

But no.

She was an adult, and a teacher. And even though this job was temporary, she hoped to land a permanent position here at Snow Pass Elementary – the sooner the better.

She stopped at the door of the first grade classroom and adjusted her bag on her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she entered. She checked the clock above the door. Seven forty-five. Another half hour of silence until the children began to arrive. She walked to the window of the second-story room and looked out at the gray morning. The roads below were showing signs of the getaway-day hustle and bustle, and she briefly wondered how many of her students, if any, would be traveling out of town.

The last few days had been somewhat surreal – getting this job offer, arriving in Colorado, renting a room at an extended-stay hotel. Then the earlier-than-expected call-to-duty. Her plan was to go apartment hunting today, but the early arrival of Cindy Atwater’s baby yesterday had changed everything. With barely any time to catch her breath or familiarize herself with the city of Denver, Isabella was here at Snow Pass – one week ahead of schedule. Fresh off an airplane and a broken engagement – winging it.

She shook off her ‘newbie’ nerves. Oh well. It was one day of operating on blind instinct. She had the whole weekend to prepare for class on Monday. Today would be a ‘fun’ day – her alternate celebration, of sorts. An early introduction to her first friends, and job, in her new home state.

Isabella moved her focus to the variety of treats she’d brought for the party, arranging them on the long table in the back corner of the room. She frowned as she considered the weather and the holiday. Her intention was to go to the market after school let out, buy all the makings for a small Thanksgiving dinner for one, and snuggle in to her tiny efficiency before the predicted snowstorm hit. But even those plans seemed to be in question now.

She sighed. At least she had some soup in her cupboard in the event she had to go straight home this afternoon. Quite a contrast to the festive Thanksgiving she’d planned months ago – before everything fell apart. Little did she know then that she’d be celebrating what should have been her wedding day by doing her laundry, watching some romantic comedies provided by the hotel cable service, and being in bed by ten o’clock.

Yippee.

The sound of little feet running on the polished concrete drew Isabella’s attention to the door. She smiled with relief, moving to greet the first wonderful student who had made her day seem a little less pitiful by showing up. A deep voice echoed down the hall and stopped her at the door.

“Tyler – slow down! Haven’t you been taught not to run inside?”

The tiny footsteps ceased as Isabella peeked around the doorway. A young boy who she assumed was one of her students was standing twenty feet away, staring up at the serious face of a tall man dressed in dark jeans, a crisp white shirt, leather jacket, and boots. Isabella’s instant attraction to the man warred with her disapproval of his tone with the child.

If this student was the Tyler Butler that the administrator had spoken briefly to her about, then he was only recently transferred to Snow Pass – and she’d been informed that he was seeing the school psychologist three times a week. Before the administrator could explain why, he was called away, and their discussion was cut short. Isabella wondered now if Tyler’s problem could be as simple as the insecurity of being the new kid, or if it was something more.

As if sensing her scrutiny, the man turned. Even from this distance, Isabella could see the color of his eyes. Green. Intense. Snaring her. Isabella’s heart thrummed against her rib cage; her breath drew in sharply. And her desire to defend her young student became momentarily quashed as her tongue stuck to the roof of her suddenly parched mouth. Thankfully, he spoke first.

“I apologize for my nephew’s disregard for safety, Miss…?”

Isabella swallowed. “Hello. I’m Miss Stevens – Tyler’s substitute teacher.”

She moved into the classroom, aware of them following behind her. She stopped in front of her desk, grasping its edge as she leaned against it. “I’m happy you’re here today, Tyler.” Isabella smiled warmly at the boy. “I’m going to be your teacher until Mrs. Atwater returns.”

He nodded shyly, then moved to the toys at the back of the classroom. Isabella slowly lifted her eyes to the face of the man beside her, flustered by the electricity that seemed to bounce between them as she tried to think of the right words to say on Tyler’s behalf. She was distracted by the strong, sharp line of the man’s jaw and the sensual curve of his lips. His striking looks and sizzling sex appeal, coupled with the fact that Isabella was still upset by his stern tone, made their meeting even more awkward.

“I would think you could overlook Tyler’s running in the hall,” she said quietly. After all, I wanted to do the same thing a short while ago. “I mean, considering his…special needs.” She made an effort to sound professional, despite her all-over-the-place thoughts.

The man seemed surprised at first. He let out a long breath and shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his gaze to the window. “You’re right, of course.” He forced a half smile, then looked at her again. “I apologize. Tyler has been staying with me, but I’m new to all this…to having a kid around.” He shook his head and looked at his watch. Isabella got the impression he was uncomfortable with their conversation. Which only increased her curiosity.

“Forgive my questions – today’s my first day,” she explained. “Is Tyler staying with you temporarily…Mr. Butler, I presume?”

For a split second, he looked almost confused. “Sorry…yes, on both counts. I’m Jordan Butler.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then focused on the young boy. “I’m Tyler’s uncle and…temporary guardian.”

“Oh…his parents left him in your care?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, then he gave a nod. “Yes,” he said stiltedly. “That’s a delicate way of putting it.” He took a step back, toward the door. “Look, I don’t have time for an impromptu parent/teacher meeting right now. My nephew will ride the bus most days, but I drove him today, due to the weather.” He hesitated, then said, “Can we finish this conversation next week sometime?”

“Of course…” Her words faded on her lips as he made a quick exit. A group of students entered the classroom, and Isabella welcomed them in, still processing the information her encounter with Jordan Butler had produced. All she’d managed to learn was that Tyler was staying with his uncle, who didn’t seem to be very comfortable with the arrangement. She focused on the quiet child playing with building blocks in the corner. She didn’t know what, exactly, was wrong – but he seemed lonely. She could relate.

She walked to the front of the class, summoning her brightest smile.

“Please take your seats, everyone.” She waited to continue until all the children were sitting quietly at their desks, Tyler included. “I’m Miss Stevens, your substitute teacher. Mrs. Atwater is staying home with her new baby for the next few weeks. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you and learning lots of things in our short time together.” She led them in the pledge of allegiance, then took attendance, mentally matching the faces with the names.

When the usual morning duties were completed, she smiled again. “I know tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, but I thought we’d start the festive Christmas season a bit early, by writing letters to Santa today. Take your time; do your best to write neatly. And at snack time, we’ll place all our letters in the basket on the back table and have some holiday treats. Won’t that be fun?”

Most of the other students let out whoops and hoorays, eagerly taking out their paper and pencils. But Tyler sat still, staring down at his hands on the desk. Isabella went to him and bent down slightly, hoping to sound cheerful. “Tyler, wouldn’t you like to write to Santa and tell him what you want for Christmas this year?”

“No.” He lowered his head and hid his face in the bend of his arm.

Isabella wondered if she should send him to talk to the school psychologist right now. But she waited a few moments, then whispered, “I’ll make a deal with you. If you write a letter to Santa, I will, too. Okay?” She went back to her desk and sat down, taking out a pen and notepad.

Tyler peeked up from the crook of his arm. Sensing him watching, Isabella made a show of it. She rolled her eyes upward, her pen poised at the corner of her mouth. “It’s been so many years…Santa’s probably forgotten me by now.” She mumbled so only Tyler, whose desk was directly in front of hers, could hear. “Maybe I shouldn’t write a letter either – then Santa won’t have to worry about bringing what I want this year.”

She was pleased when Tyler whispered back, “I’ll tell him to remember you.”

Isabella made eye contact with her student. “All right – it’s a deal.”

She smiled again as Tyler seemed to forget his recent refusal and dove into writing. She looked down at her blank piece of paper. She had to hold up her end of it, but she was clueless what to write. She thought of her ex, the man directly responsible for her current state of cynicism. She smirked, feeling reckless. What the heck – this letter will get tossed in a bin at the post office anyway…

Dear Santa,

This Christmas, I want a man who is breathtaking and gallant. A hero with a heart of gold. Please send a man who wants only me – someone who thinks I’m more beautiful than the snow on Christmas morning. Make him intelligent, and impossibly sexy. And, if this man really exists, could you make sure he’ll love me – for keeps?

Sincerely,

Isabella Stevens

She was so immersed in her vision of the ideal man, Isabella didn’t notice when Tyler finished writing. He was actually smiling at her as she glanced up from her letter.

“You were dreaming with your eyes open,” Tyler said.

Isabella did her best to hide her embarrassment. “I guess I was – sort of.” The person I asked for only exists in dreams. “You finished your letter quickly, Tyler,” she continued. “Are you sure you remembered to list everything you want for Christmas?” None of the other students seemed close to finishing, she noted, amused.

Tyler nodded. “It was easy. I only asked for two things.”

“That’s very unselfish, Tyler. I’m sure Santa will like that.”

“Miss Stevens?” Tyler said.

“Yes, Tyler?”

“Do you really think Santa will bring what I want this year?” A brief hope glimmered in his eyes, and Isabella was careful not to douse the tiny spark she’d managed to ignite in him.

“Such a short list should be well within Santa’s range of magic. As long as you’re good, I’m sure he’ll do his best.”

Tyler seemed content with her answer, if not completely convinced. But Isabella was simply happy for the subtle change in his mood. She went back to her own letter, adding one more wish to her list.

P.S. Please try extra hard to make Tyler Butler’s wish come true.

***

At eleven a.m., the announcement came over the speaker for an early dismissal, due to the worsening weather. Isabella glanced out the window, checking the sky. The clouds had begun to drop their snowflakes a bit early. The morning news had forecast heavy snow for later in the day. But the looming darkness that framed the Rocky Mountain horizon had her wondering once again if she’d have time to go grocery shopping, even with the early release.

A little after eleven-thirty, all of the buses and students had departed. Except Tyler. He seemed oblivious to his uncle’s tardiness. But Isabella was incensed over Jordan Butler’s apparent disregard for his nephew’s needs, let alone his feelings. She wondered how Tyler’s parents had come to entrust their child to him. And why did Tyler’s uncle agree to look after the boy if he didn’t have time for him?

Isabella checked with the office. They’d called Jordan Butler at her request after the initial announcement was made. They assured her he was on his way. Isabella got his number from the secretary, and even tried to call him a few times from her cell. But each time, his phone went directly to voice mail. She noted the gathering snow on the ground below, then looked over at her quiet student. The only sounds in the room were the nervous tapping of her foot, and the wind howling outside the glass windows. She decided to save time and put their coats on.

After another ten minutes, Isabella rationalized that Jordan Butler must be getting close to the school. She gathered her briefcase and bag of leftover goodies. Then, as an afterthought, collected the Dear Santa letters and stuffed them into her purse. Hoping to bring a smile to young Tyler’s sad face, she said brightly, “I’d better get these sent off today, so Santa will receive them in plenty of time.” He didn’t smile, but there was a slight sparkle in his eye as Isabella led him into the hallway. They made their way down to the entrance of the school. If Jordan Butler didn’t show up soon, Isabella would have to take her student to the office to wait for him.

Tyler stared outside for a moment, then looked up at her. “Can we go out and catch snowflakes on our tongues?”

Isabella hesitated at first, then decided it might lighten his mood, and hers, to have a little fun. “Okay, Tyler. But I’ll have to put my bags in my car first.”

They went outside and headed to the parking lot. There were only a few cars left at the school, belonging to the office personnel still at work. She held Tyler’s hand as they walked hurriedly to her car. As she started to unlock the driver’s side door, the purr of an engine pulled up behind them. Relieved, she turned to stare into the unsmiling face of Jordan Butler as he got out of his large black truck.

“Where are you taking my nephew?”

He was angry, but Isabella gave him credit for hiding it in front of Tyler. Equally upset with him – not only for his late arrival, but also for thinking she was some sort of kidnapper – she still managed to remain calm.

“I’m not taking him anywhere…” she began. “I was just putting my things in my car. I tried to call you several times…” She offered no apology, only lifted her chin defiantly, waiting for his response.

It seemed like minutes passed – enough time for Isabella to observe the large snowflakes landing in Jordan Butler’s dark hair, and absently wanting to brush them away with her fingers. Enough time for her to completely forget why she’d been infuriated with him in the first place, as she met the shimmering gaze of his electric eyes. Tyler’s small voice broke into their silence.

“We’re gonna catch snow on our tongues.”

Jordan looked at his nephew, this time with relief and a touch of amusement, before turning his focus back to Isabella. “You’re his teacher – I should have known he was safe with you,” he conceded.

“Of course he is,” she began, then lowered her voice. “As his new teacher…I’d like to talk to you about his…situation. When it’s convenient.”

Jordan’s expression was mysterious, and cooler than the wind that blew around them. He smiled politely, but only nodded his agreement to her request. He bent down and lifted the small boy in his arms.

“Thank you for looking after my nephew, Miss Stevens. I apologize for being late, but an accident was slowing traffic on the Interstate. I couldn’t get a signal on my cell to call the school.” He hesitated, waiting for her to speak.

Isabella found her voice. “My apologies as well. I should have realized it was something like that.”

Jordan’s smile was genuine, and Isabella felt herself go warm all over as Tyler chimed in, “Promise you won’t forget to mail the letters, Miss Stevens.”

“I won’t forget, Tyler,” she reassured him, a bit shakily. “I promise.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Miss Stevens,” Jordan said.

Isabella stood there breathless, watching as Jordan first lifted Tyler into the truck, then got in the driver’s side and drove off into the heavy snowfall.

***

Isabella’s Thanksgiving dinner would consist of baked turkey breast, instant mashed potatoes and gravy, canned green beans, and dinner rolls. Followed by a piece of apple pie, topped with vanilla ice cream, for dessert. Then she’d finish the evening with a glass of Pinot Noir while watching her favorite chick flick, The Goodbye Girl, on the classic movie channel.

All by herself.

She hurried down the grocery aisle, making her way to the checkout counter. She was only a couple of miles from the hotel, but the sky was becoming so dark, it could easily have been five o’clock in the afternoon instead of one p.m. As the cashier totaled her groceries, Isabella reached into her pocketbook for her wallet. The stack of letters the class had written, hers and Tyler’s on top, were tucked inside. She was disappointed she hadn’t mailed them first, when Tyler had reminded her to do so such a short time ago. She rationalized that the weather had distracted her. But in reality, it was Tyler’s uncle who had occupied most of her thoughts in the last hour or so. The questions swirled in her head as she shopped.

Why was Jordan Butler so abrupt? Why was Tyler staying with him? Why was she still thinking about the snowflakes in his hair? Why the hell was she wondering any of this at all?

After paying for her items, Isabella looked out at the storm, concerned about backtracking to the post office downtown. She shook her head and glanced at the clerk, her guilty conscience propelling her to ask, “Do you know of a box nearby, specifically designated by the post office for ‘Santa’ mail?” Isabella had heard of the program on the evening news, where postal employees and volunteers from charitable organizations would collect letters to Santa from the holiday boxes and, in some cases, make the children’s wishes come true.

The clerk chewed her gum and rolled her eyes. “Oh,” she finally said, as if the thought suddenly occurred to her. “I think there’s a Santa box up on Reindeer Ridge, off Highway 36, about ten minutes north of here. At the Toy Shop. It just opened this week for the holiday season. But you’ll have to hurry. I’m sure they’ll be closing soon, with the weather.”

Isabella thanked the young girl and hurried to her car, intent on keeping her promise to Tyler. The roads were still manageable and, if the clerk was right, Isabella would save time and miles by going up to Reindeer Ridge to drop off the letters.

Minutes later, she slowly navigated the mountain road, trying not to think about the dangers, focusing instead on her mission. But as the path narrowed with the rapid snow accumulation, Isabella began to think she should stop, turn around. She hadn’t passed anyone on the drive up, and she had the sinking feeling that she was already too late.

She mentally scolded herself again, then saw twinkling lights through the trees about half a mile up. Yes! She would deliver the letters, then head for home before the roads became too icy.

Isabella inched her car toward the Christmas lights. The Toy Shop came into view as she got closer. Festive Christmas decorations adorned the painted glass windows of the lodge-style structure. Near the entrance, a huge lighted Christmas tree captured her attention. Through the heavy snowfall, the enchanting scene beckoned. But, as Isabella’s eyes scanned for human activity, her gaze came to rest on the red CLOSED sign in the front window. Her hopes sank.

The letters would have to wait.

Isabella softly cursed as she reversed the car. She steered the tires around, then felt a sudden bump. Looking behind her, she realized she’d nearly knocked over a large red mailbox. The gold lettering painted on it indicated ‘Santa Mail’. Of course – it was outside!

Relieved, Isabella put the car into park. She hurriedly stepped out, taking the letters from her purse. She opened the box and stuffed them inside. Except hers. Snowflakes landed on the envelope that housed her wish. She wondered who, if anyone, would read her words, and she was beginning to regret writing them. She certainly wasn’t looking for what – or who – she’d asked for. In her attempt to engage Tyler, she’d gotten carried away by a fantasy she’d once believed in – until her ex fiancé, Phillip, showed her how cruel real life could be.

But surely no one would recognize the name of the new girl in town, who’d asked for lightning to strike – for a gallant hero to swoop into her life and love her. She shrugged her concerns away and shoved her letter into the box with the others, before she changed her mind. What she wished for didn’t matter. Anyway, not even ‘Santa’ magic could conjure up the kind of man she could take a chance on again.

The wind blew harder and Isabella turned up the collar of her coat as she hurried into her car. She started the engine, thankful she’d fulfilled her promise to Tyler. Now, home. She stepped on the gas, spinning the tires on the new-fallen snow. With a sinking heart, she realized she’d backed herself into a ditch. She tried every trick her father taught her to maneuver the vehicle onto the road, but nothing worked. She checked her cell phone, but there was no signal. She looked behind her at the Toy Shop, seeing no signs of people. Still, she had to try.

She left her car again and walked toward the Christmassy shop, her chin tucked in against the wind. She was awarded some shelter on the wraparound porch as she knocked on the front door. After a few moments, she tried again, then checked the handle. The door was locked. It dawned on her that she was stranded. She swallowed her panic as the sky became darker and the wind picked up. It was about a mile down the mountain road to the main street.

I’m in good shape. I can make it.

But a few minutes later, Isabella could barely feel her frozen feet, even though she’d replaced her heels with her snow boots before leaving the school. She urged herself to keep going, and prayed it wouldn’t take long to walk to safety. She was almost more embarrassed for getting herself into this predicament than worried about surviving it. But then she looked ahead of her, horrified to find she’d ventured off the main road.

She stopped, suddenly frightened. Every direction looked the same. She turned to follow her footprints back the way she’d come. But the snow had already covered them up. On reflex, she cried, “Help!” The howling wind was all that answered back. “Help, help!” she yelled again, falling to her knees in a moment of defeat.

I’m going to die out here…mailing letters to Santa. So much for getting what she asked for.

“Hello…” The deep voice of an angel was carried on the wind, reaching Isabella’s ear. “Miss Stevens…” it called. She shook her head, thinking it was a hypothermia-induced hallucination. Then the dark figure of her rescuer emerged through the blinding snow. Isabella struggled to stand as he reached her. He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her onto her feet. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed her head into his chest as relief, and his strong arms, enveloped her. She found comfort in his steady breathing as he brushed his hand over her hair.

She was going to live… He had saved her.

“Miss Stevens.” The man’s voice was urgent, concerned. He was too good to be true, an answer to a prayer, and Isabella tingled all over. She huddled closer to his warmth against the wind. When she came to her senses enough to realize he’d said her name, she looked up. Her breath caught as her gaze connected with those unmistakable green eyes…

Jordan Butler.

“Lady, when you make a promise, you really deliver on it, don’t you?” His expression was relieved and furious at the same time. “Your foolish sincerity nearly got you killed!”

Before she could respond, Jordan scooped her into his arms and carried her a surprisingly short distance to his truck. He deposited her into the leathery plush passenger seat, then slammed the door shut with a force that startled her. Isabella watched, dazed, as he went to her car and retrieved her groceries and purse. When he got into his truck next to her, she asked, “What about my car?”

“I’m taking you home, Miss Stevens. You need to thaw out and get a good night’s sleep. First thing in the morning, I’ll pick you up and we’ll come back for it.”

“But…tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” Isabella reminded him softly.

He briefly glanced her way, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I guess you’ll have to put up with me for part of the holiday then.”

Pushing back the pathetic thrill she got from the prospect of not spending all of Thanksgiving Day alone, she asked, “How did you know…?

“I dropped Tyler off with a friend, who asked me to run a last-minute errand in town.” Jordan shook his head, his eyes glinting down at her. “I thought I saw your car turn toward Reindeer Ridge, so I decided to come out – to make sure you were okay.” His voice held a hint of impatience, but his words warmed Isabella to the core. Gallant.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded but said nothing more. When they’d reached the main road, Isabella softly stated her address. Then she closed her eyes and breathed again, as Jordan carefully maneuvered the big warm truck through the storm.


Chapter Two (#ulink_93be4bd9-3e4a-5a50-89c7-f0803fcfb3d3)

Isabella awoke before dawn. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, swinging her legs off the bed. She felt for her slippers on the cool wooden floor and tucked her feet into them. After a restless night, sleep now eluded her. The frightening experience she’d had in the storm had unnerved her, causing her to toss and turn half the night.

She had only herself to blame. She could have avoided the whole episode on Reindeer Ridge by simply fibbing to Tyler, then dropping the letters off at the post office on Friday morning. But, she was honest to a fault. So much so, it could’ve cost her life – as her handsome rescuer had correctly pointed out.

She reached for her robe and wrapped herself into its snuggly warmth as she was greeted by the cold morning air on the short walk to the kitchenette. She needed coffee, lots of it. Jordan Butler would be here in a couple of hours and she had to muster every ounce of energy to face him and his nephew. She ran her hands through her honey-colored hair. The natural curls fell around her face and into her eyes as she fumbled with the coffee maker. As the welcoming scent of the rich brew touched her nostrils, she went to the window of her small third-story efficiency.

“So beautiful,” Isabella murmured as she gazed out at the blanket of white snow. It sparkled in the fading moonlight of the early morning. Despite her close call with the elements, she loved Colorado. The scene before her now was why she’d come here, all the way from Miami. The peaceful surroundings promoted healing, far away from a man who’d practically left her at the altar to run off with a twenty-year-old flight attendant. Just weeks before her wedding – which would have been today.

As the first rays of sun peeked out from the horizon, Tyler’s mysterious uncle entered her thoughts. Why? When her emotions were still raw, so soon after her breakup – why was this man commanding her attention? He was hard, cool, and distant – and her self-confidence was already in shreds.

But something about Jordan Butler struck Isabella as extraordinary. He was like the mountains surrounding this place. Strong, tall, darkly beautiful – potentially dangerous. A warning bell went off in her head.

Keep a safe distance from both – man and mountain.

But she shook it off. After all, she had to make one more trip to Reindeer Ridge with him, to retrieve her car.

***

“Uncle Jordan…Miss Stevens…do you think we’ll see Santa?”

Isabella sneaked a glance at Jordan’s profile as she rode next to him in the passenger seat. He’d been mostly silent since showing up on her doorstep fifteen minutes ago with Tyler in tow.

“It’s Thanksgiving, Tyler,” Isabella answered. “Santa may be spending the day with Mrs. Claus and the elves. But I’m sure he’ll get our letters. I delivered them – my stranded car is proof.” She turned to smile into the face of the boy in the seat behind her. “But if your uncle doesn’t mind, and if it’s open today, I’ll take you to visit the Toy Shop.”

“Okay.” Tyler smiled shyly. It stunned Isabella, considering his somber mood yesterday morning. Jordan also glanced at him, then turned back to the road as they reached their destination. He parked the truck in front of Isabella’s car and got out, remaining quiet. Tyler quickly unlatched his seat belt and bolted outside, pulling Isabella’s door open.

“Come on, Miss Stevens.” He tugged her hand impatiently as she stepped onto the frozen ground.

“Whoa – it’s slippery…” She barely got the words out when her feet hit a patch of ice and slid out from under her. Letting go of Tyler’s hand, she prepared for the hard fall. “Oh!”

Jordan’s strong arms caught her. He pulled her close to his solid chest, trapping her hands between them as he held her tight. They stayed that way, face-to-face, for several breathless seconds. Hadn’t she just convinced herself to avoid close contact with him? Yet here she was, locked in Jordan’s safe embrace – again. And his strength, along with his clean male scent, was deliciously intoxicating. She wanted to ignore her female reaction, write it off as desperation – rebound. But Jordan’s sparkling eyes hypnotized her.

She melted into him, allowed him to hold her much longer than necessary to gain her footing. His gaze flickered to her lips. With a measure of surprised anticipation, Isabella thought he might kiss her. Then, as suddenly as he’d caught her, Jordan steadied her on her feet and gently pushed her away. He turned abruptly and walked around his truck, pulling a rope from the bed.

“I’ll help you,” Isabella offered awkwardly.

“No,” came his sharp reply. He barely glanced at her now. “You take Tyler, have fun. I’ll pull your car out and meet you there.”

Isabella and Tyler trudged up to the Toy Shop. Surprisingly, it was open – but only until noon. They stepped through the entrance, into a large open space with vaulted ceilings and a massive stone fireplace on the far wall. An oversized red chair sat to the right of the fireplace. A huge Scottish pine stood tall in the corner. It was adorned with shiny ornaments and lights – and a multitude of brightly wrapped gifts beneath it.

Isabella’s gaze moved around the room, to the impressive staircase leading to two shops on the second-floor loft. The open landing, decorated in garland, overlooked the enchanting room they stood in. The overall effect was as magical as Christmas itself. The only thing missing was Santa. Isabella’s hope turned to disappointment as her gaze met the kind eyes of a small, gray-haired woman who appeared through the doors of the room below the loft.

“Oh my, we expect smiles here. Are you all right, dear?”

The woman was soft-spoken and approachable, and Isabella felt inexplicably tempted to tell her everything – how she was supposed to be married today, but instead would be alone on Thanksgiving. Except that, by accident, she was spending some of the morning with her new student and his dangerously attractive uncle. And now, there was no Santa Claus.

But she kept it all inside. “I’m fine,” Isabella replied, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“My name is Mary,” the woman said, taking Tyler by the hand. “You and Miss Stevens have a seat over here, while I go make some hot cocoa.”

Isabella was briefly flustered. She didn’t remember introducing herself to this woman. “We’re just waiting for someone,” she interjected.

“Yes, the handsome young man outside,” Mary acknowledged. “But he’ll be a little while.”

Intrigued despite her qualms, Isabella followed Mary and Tyler to the couch in front of the fireplace.

“When Santa visits, he likes to sit right here with a cup of hot chocolate.” Mary winked at Tyler and gave Isabella a knowing smile. “I’ll be back in a jiff.” She retreated through the double doors that Isabella assumed led to the kitchen.

Isabella sat quietly while Tyler stared up at the Christmas tree, his gaze glued to a sparkling Santa ornament hanging from a branch just above his head. There were no other visitors milling around, which was understandable, since it was Thanksgiving morning. Mary returned minutes later, placing a mug of cocoa in Tyler’s hands, following his eyes.

“Though Santa’s away today, he knows your wish for Christmas. If you’re extra good, Tyler…he’ll bring what you asked for.” She took the ornament from the tree. “For now, he’d want you to have this.” Tyler looked to Isabella for permission. Isabella nodded, giving the woman a guarded smile.

“You’ve been very kind, Mary. Thank you for the cocoa, but we should go.” Isabella stood, setting their cups down and taking Tyler’s hand. “Tell Mary thank you,” she reminded him.

They turned toward the entrance as the door opened and Jordan entered. Isabella’s eyes met his and she led Tyler to him. Tyler turned to wave shyly and murmur ‘thank you’ to Mary as Jordan took him outside. Isabella stayed behind for a moment, asking, “You know my name – have we met before?”

Mary smiled, rocking back on her heels. “We have a mutual friend, dear.”

Isabella was amused, thinking Mary was referring to ‘Santa’. But she turned her focus to her student now. “I know you mean well, but Tyler is…fragile,” she said. “I’m worried about your assurance he’d get his Christmas wish.” Isabella had told him herself that Santa would try his best, but Mary had practically guaranteed it, hadn’t she?

“Yes, his expectations may be great.” Mary seemed to read Isabella’s thoughts. “So, we’ll just have to make sure we don’t disappoint him.”

The older woman stayed in character as she continued. “What Tyler wants might seem out of reach. But, with lots of love – and a little Christmas magic sprinkled in – I’m convinced that anything is possible.” She reached under the tree. “This is for you,” she said, placing a small snow globe in the palm of Isabella’s hand. A glittering star floated freely amongst the white flakes inside its clear walls. Isabella studied Mary’s face, puzzled. The older woman smiled. “Some wishes are meant to come true.”

Minutes later, Isabella met Jordan and Tyler outside. The bemused look on her face prompted Jordan to ask, “You okay?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, adding quickly, “It’s just a bit unsettling being up here…after yesterday.”

Jordan nodded and glanced back over his shoulder as he carried his nephew across the icy parking lot. He sat Tyler in the truck, then made his way back to Isabella, now seated in her car.

“I’ll follow you, to make sure you get home okay.”

Jordan shut the door on her slight protest, then got into his own truck. He tailed her as promised, and Isabella tried to take her mind off the strange thrill of it by centering her thoughts on Mary’s words. The fact that the older woman seemed to know what Tyler wanted for Christmas could only mean she’d read his letter. Which, of course, meant Mary had read her wish, as well. And explained how she knew her name.

Isabella pushed past her embarrassment by wondering instead what Tyler had asked for. She’d assumed it was the latest toy or gadget released this holiday season – but Mary had implied differently. And as Isabella parked in front of the hotel, she made a mental note to simply ask Tyler about it, if and when the opportunity presented itself.

Tyler needed to use the restroom, so he and Jordan followed Isabella up the stairs to her small efficiency apartment. She opened the door and a cloud of smoke greeted them. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. Jordan pushed past her, rushing inside to the kitchenette. Before Isabella could stop him, Tyler darted through the doorway, close on his uncle’s heels.

“Wow!” Tyler’s boyish delight over the burnt turkey disaster his uncle pulled from the small oven drew an unexpected roar of laughter – deep and sexy – from Jordan’s chest.

Isabella tried her best to be upset, but couldn’t stifle a smile at Tyler’s glee.

“You sure can’t cook,” the young boy cracked. He pointed to the charcoal mess in the pan on the counter, falling into a fit of giggles.

“I’m glad you both find my bad luck amusing,” Isabella said, pretending to be hurt.

“While you’ll go home to a lovely Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll be stuck here with a can of soup.”

She regretted the words instantly. They were meant as a joke, but Jordan seemed to pick up on the underlying truth, and Isabella avoided his scrutiny as she helped Tyler to the bathroom.

Minutes later, she busied herself disposing of the blackened turkey, all the while feeling Jordan’s burning stare. She nearly jumped when he finally spoke in a serious tone behind her.

“You know, my nephew won’t accept you staying here with a can of soup. You’ll have to join us now, for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Though Isabella wanted to refuse – wanted to curl up with a bottle of wine and drink to the fact that this day wasn’t meant for her – she knew Jordan was right. Tyler would not enjoy his Thanksgiving knowing his teacher didn’t have a proper meal. Reluctantly, she nodded in agreement. “I’ll bring something,” she offered.

“Not necessary,” Jordan replied. “Just bring yourself.”

Isabella’s heart stuttered at the unexpected gentleness in his words. She allowed herself to study him from beneath her lashes. Good Lord, he was handsome. And I am pathetic. Of course she knew she was simply reacting to the first gorgeous man with a kind word, after being so coldly jilted. And she also knew she should decline Jordan’s invitation, stay home. Her vulnerability was only intensified with the holiday season. The last thing she needed was to put herself out there, on the rebound – especially now. But the happiness on Tyler’s face when Jordan told him he’d invited her stopped her refusal.

“All right, Tyler. I guess you’ll have company for the day.” She smiled at him affectionately. “I’ll just get my coat.”

***

Later that afternoon, Isabella was struggling to get over the awkward nerves of being an impromptu guest in Jordan Butler’s home.

“I designed and built it myself,” Jordan offered as they went on a mini tour of the beautiful residence, located in the foothills of the Rockies.

“I’m impressed.” Isabella smiled. She saw the hesitant pride that glowed in Jordan’s eyes before Tyler took her away to his room to show her all the toys a six-year-old boy could possibly want. Jordan lagged behind, disappearing in the direction of the delicious aroma of roasted turkey and freshly baked apple pie. Tyler ended his tour and he and Isabella returned to the living room, where the young boy quietly showed Isabella a hotel he’d constructed with blocks. Just like the real ones his daddy and Uncle Jordan worked on, he said.

Isabella’s interest was piqued. She had intended to go over her student files last night, particularly Tyler’s, but her briefcase was left in her stranded car. Before she could ask Tyler about his father, Jordan reappeared and ushered them to the oval mahogany table in the spacious dining area. A large turkey with all the trimmings was displayed on a platter in the center of the feast. Isabella’s stomach rumbled as Jordan held her chair out, playing the perfect host.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Her heart did a flip as she sat down, despite her efforts to remain cool. Jordan seated Tyler in the chair to Isabella’s right, then took the seat directly in front of her. He met her gaze from across the table.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, his voice warm and honey smooth.

Heat crawled up Isabella’s neck. She quickly lowered her eyes and murmured, “Beyond starved.”

She tried to push back her embarrassment, and moved her attention to Tyler, who seemed itching to dig in. A short, round woman with salt and pepper hair came bounding through the kitchen door, in a rush.

“I’ve left dessert on the counter to cool, Jordan. You should have everything you need…oh!” She stopped mid-sentence, spotting Isabella. “I’m so sorry,” the woman continued, eyeing her. “I didn’t realize you were having a guest for dinner, dear. Were you going to introduce us?”

“I apologize, Emily. But Tyler has monopolized Miss Stevens’s attention.” Jordan stood, including both women in his polite smile. “Emily Baron, this is…” He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Sorry – I didn’t get your first name.”

His humility was charming. “Isabella.” She stood and extended her hand to Emily. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Emily’s face softened and Isabella thought she looked strangely pleased. She shook Isabella’s hand, saying, “Yes…I recall Tyler mentioning you last night. You’re his teacher – the one Jordan found up on Reindeer Ridge yesterday.”

Before Isabella could respond, Emily continued. “Well, you’re a beauty – but that’s to be expected, with Jordan’s taste. Still, it’s a nice change for him to bring someone home for dinner.” She caught Jordan’s disapproving glance and brushed it aside, asking, “Do you cook, dear?”

Tyler spoke up suddenly. “She can’t cook.” The memory of Isabella’s culinary disaster no doubt drawing the uncharacteristic chuckle from him.

Isabella smiled again, feeling the need to correct Emily’s assumption. “Yes, Jordan rescued me from a snowstorm yesterday. And from the pile of ash that was once my Thanksgiving turkey today. But…I’m here as Tyler’s guest.”

Jordan remained silent through all of this, taking his seat again, facing the smug gleam in the older woman’s eyes. “Emily is a good friend,” he said for Isabella’s benefit. “Let me guess, you won’t be staying for dinner?”

“Of course not, dear,” Emily replied. “You know where I’ll be. But it seems I’m leaving you in good hands.” She winked at Isabella then made her way over to Tyler, bending to kiss him on the cheek. “Make sure your pretty guest has a good time, darling.”

Tyler nodded, fidgeting in his seat, staring at the golden turkey in front of him. Emily moved around the table, giving Jordan’s shoulder a slight squeeze as she walked past him to the front door. When she had gone, Jordan began to carve the bird, hesitating as he read Isabella’s look. “Would you like to say grace, Miss Stevens?”

Always the teacher, Isabella made an effort to include her student. “Tyler, would you like to say what you’re thankful for?” Tyler remained silent, suddenly distant again. Isabella gently pressed on. “Aren’t you thankful for your family, for instance?”

“That’s enough.” Jordan’s low command stifled Isabella’s coaxing. She looked sharply at him, confused. Tyler was still for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible.

Isabella ignored Jordan now, asking softly, “What did you say, Tyler?”

“I’m thankful for Santa,” he said.

Isabella noted the look of relief that shot across Jordan’s handsome features. He even asked, “What was your wish to Santa, Tyler?”

Jordan’s attempt to make up for his terse attitude warmed Isabella. She eagerly waited for Tyler to answer the question that had been on her mind, as well.

“I asked Santa to bring my mommy and daddy home,” Tyler answered. “I’ve been good, so Santa’s magic will work. Miss Stevens said so.” He took a bite of his dinner roll, oblivious to the startled look on Isabella’s face and the ice-cold stare Jordan shot her way.

Realization dawned and a cold dread gripped her. She finally understood why Tyler was staying with Jordan.

And why Jordan had every right to be upset with her now.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/gina-rochelle/christmas-wish-come-true-all-i-want-for-christmas-dreaming-o/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.