Page 21 of Mistletoe and Magic

As he drove toward the trailhead, the image of Felicity's gentle eyes flickered in his mind, her soft smile a stark contrast to the unyielding ice and fury he was about to face. But he pushed the thought aside, focusing solely on what lay ahead: rescue, safety, survival—all that mattered now was those who might have already been injured and stranded on the mountain.

Jace's Range Rover rumbled up to the trailhead, its headlights piercing the thickening veil of snow that swirled in the beam like a flurry of ghostly moths. He killed the engine and stepped out into the maelstrom, the cold gnawing at his flesh with a ferocity that made the lodge's absent warmth a cruel memory. He spotted a group of townspeople already setting up a makeshift temporary camp for searchers, and hopefully the hikers, to get out of the weather. It would allow the paramedics who were already pulling up a place to triage.

The wind howled like a pack of spectral wolves, each gust sharp as fangs, raking across Jace's exposed skin. He cinched his jacket tighter around his muscular frame, the snowflakes clinging to the dark stubble on his jaw. He swapped out his normal knit hat for a balaclava ski mask, tucking the bottom into the neck of his down vest, zipping it closed, and leaving only his eyes exposed. He pulled out a pair of ski goggles, a headlamp and thermal gloves, donning them all before heading towards the waiting group of volunteers.

He plunged into the drifts, boots sinking into the cold white abyss that stretched before him. Other searchers, mere shadows in the blizzard's fury, trudged alongside, their breath crystallizing in the frigid air. They moved as one, a silent pact between them, their determination as palpable as the ice that formed on anything it could.

With every step, Jace's thoughts skated back to Felicity—her curls bouncing with each laugh, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as she buried herself in another book. Was she looking out her window now and witnessing the storm's wrath, her heart tightening with worry for him?

Despite the biting cold, a warmth spread through Jace's chest, an ember of connection that tethered him to Felicity even amidst the tempest. He imagined her wrapped in one of her oversized sweaters, biting her lip in concern. It was a thought both comforting and unsettling, a distraction he could ill afford yet clung to desperately—a beacon in the storm.

"Keep moving," he muttered to himself, his voice lost to the wind. The searchers' headlamps bobbed in the darkness, beacons of hope in the perilous night. Jace pushed forward, every muscle taut with effort, his mind racing with strategies and contingencies.

He would find those hikers. He would bring them safely home. And then, only then, would he allow himself to sink into the thought of Felicity's arms—perhaps the only thing more daunting than the mountain he now faced.

Jace's breath came out in ragged plumes as he and the others finally stumbled upon the hikers' makeshift shelter, a crumpled tent nearly buried under the weight of fresh snow. The relief that washed over him was fierce, electrifying his weary limbs. The hikers had been mere shadows against the blizzard's canvas, but now they were tangible, alive, their eyes wide with gratitude.

"Everyone okay?" Jace barked, his voice authoritative yet laced with concern as he knelt beside them. A chorus of exhausted affirmations met his ears, but it was the unexpected sound of a whimper that drew his attention downward. Tucked within the folds of a thermal blanket was a tiny, shivering miniature dachshund, its helpless state tugging at something primal within him.

"Damn," he muttered, a smile breaking across his wind-chapped lips. "You brought the whole family."

With care that belied his rugged exterior, Jace scooped up the little dog, tucked it into his jacket and cradled it close to his chest. He could feel its heartbeat against his own, a sign of survival that resonated deep within his soul. As the search team herded the hikers back toward safety, Jace followed, his newfound friend wiggling happily as it got warmed up. It wasn't just about the lodge or the land; it was about protecting, nurturing, giving everything he had to those in need—human or otherwise.

The return to town felt like emerging from another world. The snowstorm had ceased its fury down on the flat, leaving behind a hushed reverence as if the mountains themselves were paying homage to their triumph. Jace and the rest of those who’d gone to rescue the hikers stepped into the embrace of the community, a hero's welcome warming him more than any fire could as he handed off the dachshund to the town’s vet. But it was the sight of Felicity, standing on the periphery, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, that sent a jolt through him far more potent than the cold ever did.

"Jace!" Her voice cracked with emotion as she rushed forward, her arms enfolding him with a strength that belied her soft, curvy frame. The touch of her body against his, even through layers of winter gear, sparked an ache for intimacy that caught him off guard.

"Felicity," he whispered, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of her head. Her breath danced across his skin, a tantalizing promise of warmth and comfort. "I'm all right."

"Thank goodness," she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "I was so worried... I—I couldn't stand the thought of...” Her words faltered, lost in the tide of emotions that swirled between them.

"Shh, it's over now," Jace reassured her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, reveling in the softness of her skin. "We found them—all of them, safe and sound."

Felicity's eyes drifted to the cooing bundle being taken away by the vet. "Even the dachshund? Someone said they’d taken their little dog with them?" she asked, a gentle laugh bubbling through the remnants of fear.

"That little guy has more tenacity than most people I know. Cute little sucker," Jace joked, allowing the lightness of the moment to chase away the shadow of danger that had loomed so large.

"I keep telling you, you’re my hero, and now a lot of other people will think the same," she said, looking up at him with an admiration that filled him with a heady mix of pride and passion.

"As long as I’myourhero, I’ll be happy," Jace murmured, his voice softening. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet respect and gratitude of his fellow townsfolk and the woman whose concern had seen him through the storm, Jace Winterborne realized he had found something more powerful than he had ever imagined.

At the edge of the crowd, Jace spotted the same SUV that he’d chased away from the lodge. It sat like a dark predator waiting to pounce.

14

FELICITY

The scent of sweet cream butter and vanilla wafted through the air as Felicity meticulously piped frosting onto her latest creation, a three-tiered cake that seemed to mimic the soft hues of the sunset. Her focus was absolute, each swirl and flourish a testament to her need for precision, for creating something perfect in this imperfect, unfamiliar world.

"Looks like you're going to be the star of the baking contest," Ivy remarked from the doorway, leaning against the frame with an easy grace that Felicity envied.

Felicity glanced up, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite the flutter of anxiety in her chest. "I'm just glad I was able to get my old mixer repaired. I know I should just buy a new one, but I’ve been through a lot with this old one, and I can’t stand the thought of retiring it," she quipped, placing the last dollop of frosting with a flourish.

"I don’t get it, but then my idea of baking is a box mix and canned frosting," Ivy said, laughing as Felicity cringed. “It’s funny, but I don’t remember ever hearing you wax poetic about your mixer before.” Ivy’s voice was casual, but her eyes were probing, like she could see right into the depths of Felicity's soul.

For a moment, Felicity paused, the air around them thickening. She placed the piping bag down, feeling suddenly out of place. The excitement over the contest dimmed slightly, overshadowed by the reality of her situation. She wasn't just Felicity Hart, Christmas Valley baker; she was a woman not quite of this time and place, a stranger in a world that shouldn't have been hers.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm waiting for the clock to strike midnight, to wake up and find this isn’t my life," Felicity admitted, her gaze drifting towards the window where the village square lay quiet under the twilight sky.

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