Page 5 of The Santa of the Mountain

I’m getting flashbacks from when Henry broke up with me. So as I head over to the mulled cider station, manned by the Inn’s resident Santa Claus, I’m hoping for a little bit of a pick-me-up.

“Good morning, Bert,” I say, forcing a smile.

He gives me a once-over and then taps his nose. Maybe this man really is Santa. If Santa had a penchant for spiking his mulled cider with booze…

“Made this one for you,” Bert says, winking at me as he proffers a small cup.

“I hope that means what I think it means,” I say, grabbing the steaming cup.

Bert peels back his red, velvet jacket to reveal the silver flask, taking a quick nip before letting out a deep, throaty sigh.“Don’t tell Martha,” he whispers, coughing slightly as he glances sidelong at his wife.

She’s standing at the front desk of the Whispering Winds Inn with a festive tray full of cider, eggnog, sugar cookies, and candy canes. With a red dress, white apron, glasses, and bonnet covering her gray hair, she’s the quintessential Mrs. Claus.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” I seal my lips and pretend to lock them.

I take a sip and grimace, coughing as I head for the exit and ponder what went so wrong in my life that made me pick up day drinking with Santa Claus. And as I brace myself against the frosty air, stepping onto the sidewalk, not even the festive atmosphere of Whispering Winds’s downtown is enough to wrench me from my funk.

But I need to grin and bear it. This wedding needs to go off without a hitch. I bring the cup of cider to my lips, but rather than take another swig I stop myself. I look around and then march to the first trashcan I see and toss it in. I need to be on my A-game for whatever is waiting for me.

I hope it’s nothing, but I know any exchange that begins withWe need to talkisn’t going to be fun. I thought I was making this experience for Pearl and Henry memorable. I’ve scheduled every part of their day from morning to night to ensure they’re having a great wedding week.

Wham!greets me as I open the door to Windy Brews. Coffee, sugar, and nostalgia smack me right in the face when I slip inside and dust off snow flurries from my coat.

I can’t help but smile when I see a few kids munching on candy canes, mugs of steaming hot cocoa in front of them. Kids in elf ears with windburned cheeks.Dogsin elf ears and reindeer antlers. Glittering lights, wreaths, and garlands galore. The cafe is overflowing with so much Christmas spirit that it’s beginning to rub off on me.

Everything will beokay.The wedding. Mylife.I need to stop fixating on what’s wrong. And I need a cup of Quinn’s Mistletoe Madness,stat. I have no idea what it is—a little of this, a little of that so she says—but it has been fueling me all week. Along with a few bars of Mom’s peppermint bark, when it’s available. I haven’t met Mom, but from what I’ve heard, she’s the lovely, albeit a little wild matron of the town.

When Quinn meets my gaze, smiles, and lifts that glorious little plastic bag, I know I’m in luck. “Saved you some,” she says, sliding it across the counter.

It feels like I’m taking part in some drug deal, slipping the bag into my pocket and then sliding my card to Quinn.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I am, aren’t I?” she says, smiling. “I’m not sure how this town would function without me slinging caffeine.”

“It would be more of a sleepy mountain town, that’s for sure.”

She nods. “Speaking of caffeine… The usual?”

“Unless you have anything stronger.”

“Not this year. I’m working on a new formula though. Holiday Rush? Santa’s Little Secret? I’m workshopping names.”

“Well, whenever it’s ready, I’ll be the first in line. Or if you need a tester…”

“Oh, so you’ll be back after the wedding?”

It feels like I’ve missed out on the magic of this small town. Sure, I’ve been to the Christmas festival, snagged some treats from the pop-up vendors, caroled, and watched the amazing light spectacle in the park each night. But it’s like I’ve viewed it through a pinhole, my attention solely focused on Pearl and her experience that I’ve neglected mine.

“I think it might be hard to stay away. I’ve never been to a town like Whispering Winds. You guys go all out for Christmas.”

“Some people think it’s a little much.”

“Scrooges,” I mutter.

“Couldn’t agree more. But,” Quinn says, finishing up the order and sliding my card back. “This town tends to convert the non-believers.” She gestures over my shoulder. “Here’s one now.”

I glance behind me and see a towering man wearing a Santa hat, shaking off enough snowflakes from his coat that it looks like a miniature blizzard.

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