Page 3 of Christmas Wish

Holly leaped up into the air. “Mistletoe it is! Christmas in Mistletoe!” she yelled, causing her mother to smile. For the first time in a long while, genuine happiness flowed through her.

*****

Matthew Kitchen was shorter than she had imagined; Holly would have walked right past him at the bus station if he was not holding a sign with her name on it. Now, they were in his car, driving to her grandmother’s bed-and-breakfast.

Holly wondered what her grandmother’s place would look like. The lawyer told her the story of how her grandmother moved into one of the rooms in her bed-and-breakfast shortly after Ruth left. But then, thoughts about her grandmother left Holly’s mind as they passed through the town.

Mistletoe, Montana was undoubtedly nothing like she had seen before. It did not have the loudness of the big cities that Holly lived in. The businesses were few and sporadic; the people seemed demure and friendly. As they drove along, Matthew stopped occasionally to greet some neighbors. But what caught her attention the most was the decorated Christmas trees sparkling from the front porches.

“Is it always so…?” Holly struggled to find the right word to describe Mistletoe. It was sparse, but there were so many people. “Why is Christmas such a big deal? I’ve never seen such preparations in any other city I lived in,” she supplied.

They passed a giant Christmas tree in the middle of town. While Holly stared at it in awe, Matthew replied, “Christmas is the soul of our town. The legends say that the first settlers found Mistletoe’s creek on Christmas Eve after wandering around for ages. So, every Christmas, we celebrate and thank the universe for giving us Mistletoe.”

The legend was so silly, but it delighted Holly. She imagined living in this beautiful town and making friends with these warm people as Matthew pulled the car to a stop in front of an unkempt building. According to the lawyer, it hadn’t been opened since her grandmother died. Snow piled up around the inn.

“Please call me if you need anything,” Matthew said, handing her a card with his number on it.

Holly accepted the card and thanked him before walking towards the building. Deep within Holly, she knew that this bed and breakfast would change her life. She just had to be patient enough to find out how.

Chapter Two

Charles

The town was quiet (as usual) as Sheriff Charles Frost drove slowly in his cruiser. He loved to greet the residents and observe their morning activities whenever he was out patrolling. He even managed to stop by the church and talk to the women clearing the snow that heaped across its garden and front porch.

The cold weather made Charles shiver. This was one of the days he would've loved to drink Mrs. Dalenger's hot coffee. A silver of sadness snaked down his body. Charles missed the old woman the most. He missed her food, warmth, and kindness. It was such a shame that the bed-and-breakfast she ran would have to close down after her death. It made him wonder where her long-lost daughter was. Wasn’t she supposed to return home and continue her mother’s legacy? Ah, he was being too dreamy – she couldn’t even return for Mrs. Dalenger’s funeral.

Shaking the thought out of his head, Charles drove towards the station to get some paperwork done. However, passing Mrs. Dalenger's B&B, another thick wave of sadness engulfed him. He slowed down to observe the building, which started to look so abandoned. He resolved to come by next Saturday and do some clean-up, sure that Mrs. Dalenger would’ve wanted that. As Charles was about to speed up, though, he saw a figure move towards the window from the corner of his eye.Was that a burglar trying to rob Mrs. Dalenger’s business?Adrenaline began to pump through his body.

The sheriff got out of the car and pulled out his Taser before approaching the figure carefully. He was mortified to see that it was a young woman. She wore old jeans and a plain T-shirt that hugged her slim, beautiful curves tightly. Her caramel-colored hair cascaded down in thick waves. He couldn’t see her face, but Charles was certain that it would be beautiful, too.

"Stop! Show me your hands!" he uttered loudly.

The woman froze. She was tucked within the window, rummaging around the building. Then, she jumped down and turned around. His feet nearly buckled down at the sight before him. Her oval-shaped face, full lips, and curved eyebrows made his heart thump. Her skin was tanned and so smooth, Charles wanted to touch it. Small, faded brown freckles scattered across her cheeks and sharp cheekbones, giving her a childish mien. He ran his eyes up and down the woman’s body, shocked that such a beautiful girl was a thief. She seemed strange, too, as he had never seen her before.

“Are you new in town? Who are you?” he asked again, deepening his voice to frighten her.

“Wait, I’m not a thief,” the woman said hurriedly. “I am not trying to loot this building. This is my grandma’s place; I’m just trying to find the key.”

Charles stopped, chilled by her words. Did she just say that she was Mrs. Dalenger’s granddaughter? He cocked his head sideways to study her face. In many ways, he saw the uncanny resemblance she had to the old woman, especially her gray, exacting eyes. Still, he needed more proof than that. “Can I see some ID?” Charles asked. He stood on his guard as the stranger rummaged through her waist bag and handed him an ID.

Holly Dalenger, Charles read in his mind. She was right – she was was indeed Mrs. Dalenger's granddaughter. Still, Charles wondered why she had never come around to town while her grandmother was alive. Despite their closeness, Mrs. Dalenger never really told him why her daughter left years ago. Whenever he asked, she would deflect or plainly decline to answer the question.

“I’m sorry about the confusion, Ms. Dalenger. You know, one cannot too be careful around here,” Charles said apologetically, handing the ID back to the woman.

Holly smiled at him. It was such a sweet, innocent smile that melted his heart. “No, you can just call me Holly,” she said.

Now, it was his turn to smile. “Well, Holly, how about we find you that key?” Charles said.

She turned back to the window. “Right. I just don’t know the particular spot that Matthew said the key was supposed to be.”

Charles walked towards the front door with Holly on his heels. He lifted the dead flowers in a pot on the porch and took a set of keys inside it. Holly’s eyes widened with surprise. Her soul must be nearly as beautiful as she appeared.

“How’d do you know that?” she asked, impressed.

He shrugged. "I was pretty close to Mrs. Dalenger. This was her favorite hiding place," Charles said.

Holly accepted the keys from him coyly. He stepped back as she walked up to the front door. When the lock opened, she turned to him to say, “Thank you for your help.”

---