Under the Mistletoe, page 2
part #1 of Home to Heritage || Book Five Series
When the last car drove away from the pump, she shoved her car into reverse and pressed the gas. But the car only rocked as the whir of spinning tires filled the air. She tried again, slower, but this time the car didn’t even rock.
She popped open the door and stepped out into the frigid air. Her breath escaped in white clouds as she squatted by the front wheel and brushed away the snow to get a better look. The tire had dropped off the edge all right, and it was down about six inches on solid ice. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Great.
Not only was she not getting that family Thanksgiving, but now she’d have to pull someone from their family time to help her.
He didn’t have time for a big family dinner today, but Logan Kingsley couldn’t very well drive the two hours south to his parents’ house today only to download his manuscript from his editor and not stay for Thanksgiving.
Logan secured the lock on the cabin door, then wound his way down the porch steps to the driveway. The dark wood cabin built into a hill had the main entrance on the second floor off a large wooden deck. It wasn’t fancy. A few bedrooms and a main area that served as living room, dining room, and kitchen, but he didn’t need more.
He’d gotten this place at a steal a couple years ago and had planned on making it just a writing cabin, but after last year, the break away from everything had been good. Life was easier with fewer people in it. Dogs were much more loyal anyway.
He reached the bottom of the steps and scanned the snow drifts in the surrounding dense woods. No sign of Cal. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and released a piercing whistle into the air, then waited.
He needed to start editing his manuscript today, but with no internet at his remote cabin, his options were limited. He’d just have to make it a short visit because he had a gut feeling his latest book would be no small amount of work.
His first three novels in his epic fantasy series hadn’t been easy, but they had been a story inside of him bursting to be told. They’d taken untold hours of tedious rewriting to hammer into a final form, but the stories themselves had been a passion. Book four? Not so much. Every scene, every chapter, every bit had been a fight to get his characters to perform.
But he’d done it, and now with his editor’s insights, he would make it better. What was the old saying? Books aren’t written—they’re rewritten. He was ready to get rewriting.
Logan swung open the rear door to his 2023 Bronco, then flipped up the rear window as the jingle of a collar reached him just before Cal bound toward him. His labradoodle was so matted in snow that Logan could barely see the dark brown of his fur. But with the way his pup’s tongue hung out of his mouth, Logan couldn’t begrudge him having the time of his life.
“Dude, you are a mess.” Logan stopped Cal and brushed him off the best he could. “Good thing I love you. Want to go for a ride?”
Cal’s whole backside wiggled, and the moment Logan patted the side of the Bronco, Cal leapt in, circled the back three times, and then landed with a flop on the blanket that had become a permanent fixture on the floor. With the back seat down, the dog had plenty of space to make his own, and he definitely hadn’t been shy about doing so.
Logan secured the back, then walked around to the driver’s door and got in. He was glad he took the time last week to put up the fluorescent road markers to line the driveway. Once off his property, navigating the trees would be a lot trickier now that the winding dirt path had been erased by the eight to ten inches they’d gotten last night. Logan started the engine and put it into four-wheel drive. His tires struggled to find purchase on the uphill slope, but once he locked the differential, he made steady progress out to the main road. He’d have to pull out his plow attachment soon, but he could handle this.
He reached the main road in a matter of minutes. It had been long cleared, and the surface was even dry from the sun. He unlocked the axle and put it back into two-wheel drive before turning south. The roads were pretty quiet, no doubt because most people were already with their families, elbow deep in pumpkin pie. He passed a familiar bend in the road. Nothing about it looked any different from the rest of the forest, but it was the unseen boundary of civilization and cell service. He reached for his phone but set it back down. He’d enjoy the peace a little longer.
He could just drive to the local diner only thirty minutes away to download the file. But who knew if they were open on Thanksgiving or if their internet was even working? It seemed to go down every other week. Besides, he hadn’t been to his parents’ in two months and even then, it had been a drive-by. For the most part, his family visited him under the guise of weekend vacations, but he was pretty confident they were only making sure he didn’t turn into a full-on hermit.
Almost two hours down the road, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He powered on his phone and connected it to the CarPlay app. Let the never-ending notification chimes begin. His remote cabin had definitely helped him make his last few deadlines, but living without communication had its drawbacks. He’d checked into satellite Wi-Fi, but the trees surrounding his cabin blocked any hope of that.
When the notifications stopped, he glanced at the icons on the display in his car. Six new voicemails, zero emails, and over three hundred texts. Awesome. That wasn’t too bad for being over three weeks since he’d last checked in.
He pressed the phone icon to play his voicemail.
“Logan, this is Sandy.” Good, he was hoping to hear from his editor at Palmer & Jones Publishing. “I plan to have your manuscript back in your inbox the day before Thanksgiving. I don’t need to remind you that this is a tight turnaround. After your two extensions, we need you to make this your top priority.”
He glanced at the email icon again. Zero. Strange. He checked the date of the voicemail. Sandy had left that nearly two weeks ago. He pressed play on the next message.
“Hey, Logan, this is Mark.” His agent’s deep voice came over the line. He turned up the volume. “I have some exciting news. Give me a call when you’re back in service.”
About the missing manuscript or something else? He checked the time. Almost eleven. But with it being Thanksgiving Day, he’d wait until this evening. He pressed delete and waited for the next message.
“Lo-gan!” Liam’s familiar voice echoed through the car. “You are missing it! Switzerland is amazing! You should be here.” That was pretty much how Liam started every phone call. But the adventure life was for his twin. Logan preferred the quiet cabin. “Anyway, I got a new gig offering paragliding tours here. It’s sweet cash, and every trip down is awesome. Well, almost every one. Yesterday, the lady I took down screamed the entire time. In the end she said she had fun, but I’m pretty sure I’m deaf in my left ear now.”
There was a muffling sound, then Liam came back. “I gotta go, but tell everyone Happy Turkey Day, and I’ll try to call Mom later, but the time difference makes it tricky. Love you, bro.”
The line ended, and Logan deleted the voicemail.
The next three were spam and he deleted them. No more from his editor. Strange. Had she sent it to the wrong email? He tapped on the display screen of his Bronco and called his brother Luke.
Luke answered on the second ring. “Hey, you’re in service.” His voice lowered as he seemed to be making his way to somewhere more private. “Does that mean you’re coming to dinner after all?”
“I’m about five minutes from the Heritage exit. Mom and Dad still have no idea?”
“I think Dad suspects, but not Mom. She’ll be thrilled. Hold on.”
Hannah’s distant voice carried through the line as she talked to Luke in the background, her voice a little distressed.
“Everything okay?”
“A friend of ours car is stuck at the Marathon just off US 31, and I need to go get her. Wait. You’re right there. Can you grab her as you go by?”
“Her?” Logan shook his head even though Luke couldn’t see him. “You really think a woman wants to get into a car with a strange man even if you say you know me?”
“Actually, you know her. It’s your friend Devin from college.”
Everything went cold for a moment before heat coursed through him as a pair of big blue eyes framed by light-auburn hair flashed in his mind. No doubt she still had the smattering of freckles that had driven him to distraction in more than one of his college classes. “Devin Hendrixson?”
Like he needed to clarify. There had only ever been one Devin in his life. In so many ways.
What was she doing in Heritage? Last he knew, she was living in Detroit. No doubt visiting her cousin Jess, who was from Heritage, but then, why couldn’t Jess pick her up? Maybe the roads were worse off the main road.
Luke’s voice broke into the silence again. “This is perfect, she’s—”
“You seriously can’t be asking me to do that.” Logan knew his voice sounded frantic, but if anyone should get it, it’d be Luke. “Don’t you remember our conversation last New Year’s about the Christmas party Liam and I threw?”
“Was that the one at your parents’ old house in Chicago?”
“Yes, Liam wanted a final hurrah with our friends there before the moving trucks came. There was a girl…there was a mistletoe…”
Luke didn’t even know the whole story, but he knew enough to understand this was a bad idea.
“Wait, that was Devin?” The humor in Luke’s tone didn’t offer the sympathy Logan was hoping for. “I don’t remember Liam ever dating Devin.”
“It was short-lived, but he definitely showed up with her as his date to the Christmas party and then stuck pretty close to her all night.” The memory of Liam walking in with her hand in his, leaning down to whisper in her ear, touching the small of her back…He shoved the image away. He was over it.
“It’s been almost a year. I bet she’s forgotten. I mean, you’ve put it in the past. I’m sure she has too.” Luke was right. She probably hadn’t thought of Logan once since that night. “Unless you haven’t put it in the past.”
“I have.”
“I mean, if you’re still in love with—”
“I’m not.” And he wasn’t. Not anymore. He shared a lot with his twin, but never girls. So he’d buried that crush, and he’d never felt more free. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
“Then consider this an opportunity to apologize.” Luke wasn’t letting this go, and if Logan fought this any longer, his family would get suspicious.
“Fine. I’ll be there in about two minutes.” He ended the call, then checked his reflection in the mirror. His gray beanie covered his mop of dark hair in desperate need of a haircut, but he was about a week overdue for shaving. Not the best first impression after almost a year.
Shoot! He was doing it already. Not ten seconds with Devin back in his life and he was falling down the rabbit hole.
As if sensing his mood, Cal stood and nosed Logan’s shoulder over the seat. Logan reached back and patted his head. “We’re almost there. But I do fear, buddy, that leaving the house today was a bad idea.”
Because the last thing Logan needed was to spend the next year getting over Devin all over again.
two
As much as it went against her nature, Devin had done it. She’d called Hannah for help. And it had gone well. Well, it’d been that or freeze to death. Because the moment she’d figured out that she was stuck was also the time cars stopped showing up at the pumps. Devin scanned the surrounding empty parking lot. It had started to snow again, but Hannah had said Luke should be here any moment.
Because some people did show up when you needed them. Hannah hadn’t even made it feel like a problem. She’d actually made it sound like Devin joining them would be a gift. That type of acceptance was mindboggling. Maybe today she could let herself be fostered into this family—her brothers, her sisters, her nieces and nephews.
When her phone rang though the car, she took the call.
“MaryLynn? Everything okay?”
“I know I said Monday, but you said you’d be driving for two hours, and I had a thought. How many do you expect tomorrow at the derby?”
“Maybe fifty, but not all of them qualify for the program. I opened it to the community to have critical mass for a real race.”
“That won’t help.” A tapping came over the line as though MaryLynn was drumming her well-manicured nails against a counter. “The board wants to limit the events to only the foster and adoptive families.”
Which was a challenge because so many of the families in this area needed a program like this, but she understood the parameters. “I know. But the program only paid for those that qualify. The rest paid for their cars.” Or she covered them out of her own pocket.
“We don’t blame you, but if the area isn’t going to be responsive, then they won’t keep sending resources there.”
“But they are responsive. It’s just slow. The Barlows are a new family that are supposed to be there tomorrow. They’re in the process of adopting a sibling group of three but feeling a bit overwhelmed with taking on three kids at once. I can help them. And I can help more like them, but it takes time to build relationships.”
There was a long pause before MaryLynn’s voice filled the line again. “The next meeting with the board is in the second week of January. If you can show steady growth over a series of events, that might do it. What do you have planned for the Christmas season?”
“A Secret Santa exchange.” An incoming call beeped in her ear, and she glanced at the screen. Jess. Her cousin would have to wait.
“And?” MaryLynn’s voice had lost its softness.
“That’s it.” Okay, saying it like that didn’t seem like much, but the kids had wanted the opportunity to not just get but also give gifts. She had set up a Santa’s Workshop store the kids could shop at for free in what used to be an old candy shop next to Donny’s Diner. What had seemed a simple undertaking originally had overwhelmed her last month with planning and setting up.
“That’s a good start, but you need an event every week leading up to Christmas. That way you can show the steady increase in attendance before the next meeting.”
Jess tried to beep through again, but Devin ignored it. “But how am I going to get them to come? They don’t respond to the mailings I’ve sent. I can’t very well show up at their door and drag them there.”
“I’ll think on that. I’ve got to go. Send me some photos tomorrow for the newsletter.” With that, she was gone.
Her phone rang in her hand, and Devin accepted Jess’s call. “Hey.”
“Finally. I was beginning to panic.” With the rushed words, Devin didn’t doubt that. “You haven’t moved from the gas station in like twenty minutes.”
“Are you tracking me?” Maybe she shouldn’t have shared her location with her cousin last month.
“Watching out for you.” Jess released a sigh as if she’d flopped into a chair. “What’s going on? Your parents canceled, didn’t they?”
Devin let her forehead fall against the steering wheel. “I don’t need an ‘I told you so’ right now.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Jess’s voice softened. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Not really, but if she talked about it, she’d be crying when Luke showed up, and that would be too embarrassing. “But fear not, I’m eating with the Kingsleys, so you don’t need to worry about me.”
And they would be her family today.
“The Kingsleys? As in Logan and Liam?”
Okay, saying it like that felt less familial, but Logan wasn’t supposed to be there. “As in Luke Taylor’s parents and the rest of the family, but the twins aren’t there.”
“Just think, if it wasn’t for hitching a ride with them to visit me that Thanksgiving all those years ago, you’d never have met those boys. I will admit, I was hoping they’d visit their brother more than they have over the years. I only met them that one time, but from what I remember, they were really good-looking.”
She couldn’t deny it. Most people found Liam the more attractive twin, with his Henry Cavill looks teamed with his reckless charisma. And maybe she had been initially drawn to him, but that had quickly passed. Logan’s quiet, steady nature had a much deeper impact. Those piercing pale-blue eyes mixed with his dark, brooding Mr. Darcy persona had stolen more than one night’s sleep from her. That was until he’d smashed that fantasy with a few choice words last year. “So if I met them coming to see you, can I blame the most humiliating moment of my life on you too?”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Devin glanced up as a vehicle turned into the gas station, but it was one of those newer Broncos, not Luke’s old truck, so she rested her head back on the steering wheel. “Logan basically told me I was the last person he’d ever want to kiss. How is that not bad?”
“To be fair, he didn’t actually say that.”
“You’re right, I believe he said”—she lowered her voice, mimicking his—“‘I don’t think this is where either of us wants to be’ as we were standing under the mistletoe.”
“Okay, that is pretty bad.” Jess’s voice became muffled, like she’d tucked the phone in her shoulder.
“Then he stared at me with those blue eyes a moment before walking away. I didn’t see him the rest of the night and haven’t seen him since.” The Bronco hadn’t gone toward the pumps. Rather it parked next to her.
“Blue eyes, huh?”
“What?” She sat up and eyed the vehicle. Of all the places, why did this guy have to park right next to her?
“I just think it’s interesting that you remember the color of Logan’s eyes.”
She remembered a lot more than the color of his eyes, but she wouldn’t mention that.
Devin side-eyed the Bronco, but the window was too high for her to see the driver. The distinct sound of the driver’s door opening and then slamming shut reached her. “Oh shoot.”
