Page 55 of Dancing in Lake Mistletoe

I wrap my hands tighter around the edges of the blanket, feeling the weight of his words. “How do you know my name?”

“You told me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Did I?

He just shrugs as his kind eyes come to mine. “Some advice: I’ve been around a long time. Long enough to see folks get tangled up in their own heads. You’d be amazed how many people I’ve taken round this lake, just to watch ’em realize what’s been there all along.”

“What’s that?”

“Why, the answer, of course.” He chuckles, his eyes crinkling under his cap. “What is it that you want?”

Dutch,I think but do not say.

“Ah, there it is, and now, you know,” he says.

“People don’t always get what they want when they want it,” I tell him.

“True, but it is Christmastime. And you’re in Lake Mistletoe. Rumor has it, a Christmas wish can stir the magic of the lake this time of year.”

“Right,” I say, my voice dripping with incredulity.

He reaches up and catches a snowflake and extends his finger to me. “Make a wish and see?”

I glance from his face to the snowflake.

“Can’t hurt,” he presses.

Closing my eyes, I make a silent wish and blow. When I open them again, he winks at me.

We ride in silence for a while after that. The only sounds are the steady clop of the horses and the whisper of the sleigh over the snow. And as I look out over the lake, I realize that maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

Lake Mistletoe glistens under the stars, and I feel a warmth growing inside me, a small flicker of something I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Miss Mindi?”

“Yes.”

“The moment you start to wonder if you deserve better … in a friendship … in a relationship … or in your career? You do,” he says as we come to a stop.

Stunned by his words, I look around and realize we’re back at the beginning. The gentleman from before steps forward to help me down to where Lydia, Sela, and the girls are already waiting. I take his hand and look back at our driver.

“Thank you, Nick,” I whisper.

“You’re very welcome.”

Dutch

Mindi returns to find me, already four chocolate chip cookies and half of a glass of milk in. She sits on the edge of the coffee table. Her gaze falls to mine.

“I was just about to jump into the shower if Santa wants to join me before stuffing the stockings and unloading the gifts,” she says before standing and pulling her shirt over her head.

I set the cookies aside and stand as she sneaks around the corner and darts into my bedroom. Dropping the shirt in the hallway.

I kick off my shoes and turn off the kitchen light before following.

I find her already in the shower, and I quickly undress and drop my lounge pants on the floor by hers.

---